Pointed encounter

While I was strolling along the Shoshone River last week, a porcupine availed himself for a picture.

Although Russian olives are designated weeds and water hogs, the quilled one seemed to fancy the tree’s leaves that were clinging to the limbs like tiny tattered pennants from last year’s Indy 500.

It was funny observing the little guy that looked like a beaver having a bad hair day, but after a minute or two Porky began shuffling about in the branches and making snuffling sounds as though dismayed by the goofy person’s presence.

So, being a good sport, I decamped Mr. Porcupine’s plantation and he returned to his crunchy salad.