Last week I kidnapped Fred for a stop off at Old Sacramento's port to see if the old-school tall ships were still there. Making our way to the riverbank, we discovered the most beautiful scene right behind the railroad museum:

I wanted to grab any ol' couple and do an impromptu photo session. The sad thing is, this spot will not stay this way for long.
Meandering down the dock, we watched the train come into the station. The steam boiled over as the engine was refueled.


Though a rainstorm threatened, sun regularly broke through the grey and backlit the ship's sails. I realized what had to happen next, and soon a deafening horn warned vehicle and pedestrians to get off the bridge! (As you can see, the school-bus-yellow paint that everyone worried was too bright has indeed mellowed into the glint of a gold nugget.)
Even the old ziggurat building was in rare form.

Sure beats reruns of Cheyenne.