Medieval Journey on Phinney Ridge

It didn't seem like an ominous day when I set out for a walk late last week with the dog. But as we trekked up one side of Phinney Ridge and down the other, we encountered signs and omens that perhaps we were on a perilous journey.

First, we found this:

I did not recognize it as The Sword On the Stone, otherwise I would've snatched it up to do battle with what we encountered next:

Fortunately, this monster was sleeping, or we would've been in great peril. As it was, we were able to sneak past it.

I'm not sure what damsel in distress we were supposed to rescue. Last year at about this time, we encountered the terrible Barbie Doll Head Upside-Down in a Tree (sadly, no picture), but I should think we were too late to do her any good.

We did find this when we got home, however--the only rose other than the wild roses to bloom in our garden this year. The rest of the buds on this bush would open up until they were fat, pink softballs, tantalizingly on the verge of bursting open into beautiful flowers--only to turn damp and brown and fall off before realizing their potential.

Seems odd that this one, coming of age at such a soggy, chilly time of year, would be the only one to emerge. Perhaps it has been left for us by some imprisoned princess as a Sign.