Large beasts of weather and sky

I've decided to walk to work, even though I work at home.

On my walk today, I stepped in all the large potholes on my street. They are the footprints of some creature whose weight affects the asphalt the way mine affects wet sand. A winter-weather beast, a very large dinosaur or lumbering mastodon. Some kids once tried to charge admission to see them--the potholes, I mean--as a way of raising some quick money, but no one would pay because these dinosaurs and mastodons get everywhere. (No, I'm making that up; no kids ever did that, or at least not on my street, or at least not while I was paying attention.)

Up in the sky, wind has unearthed (... un-sky'd) the white vertebrae of an even larger beast that swims up there. Or maybe it's just that its sky is so thin that its bones are visible through it. I didn't catch it on film but you've seen skies like that--large backbones and sometimes ribs laid out across them.

But now I've arrived at work and should begin. Here's a skunk cabbage from last week, consuming its daily meal of sunlight.