
An airplane takes off from San Diego's Lindbergh Field.
On my way home, the moon rose over the Sonoran desert. It was very beautiful. This is a picture of the rising moon, which I'm surprised turned out so well.
The sun was setting in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, and I liked how the sun lit up this ocotillo. I also liked the shadows the setting sun cast across the ground.


The flights to and from Atlanta sucked. Both were packed. I flew to Atlanta next to a woman with body odor, and on the way back, I sat next to a woman with a toddler on her lap. As much as I'd like to, I can't blame AirTran for either of those problems.
Atlanta's fireworks in Centennial Olympic Park were amazing. It was an amazing experience to be standing downtown on a beautiful night surrounded by 200,000 people with Queen's "We Will Rock You" blaring while fireworks were being shot off the ground and buildings surrounding me. Add to that the echoes of the explosions on the downtown skyscrapers and the cheering, screaming crowd. However, when I went back to my hotel I watched the end of Boston's display. It was better.
Pride was Pride. Instead of marching up Peachtree, they marched down Peachtree. They were kicked out of Piedmont Park, so everything was held at the Civic Center. And it rained, again. What is Pride without rain? Four of the last five years have featured drenching rain.
I took tons of pictures. I'm planning several Atlanta slideshows for my blog. I'm so happy to be back in San Diego. I will always love Atlanta, but I really don't miss it. My city is better. Read the blog this week, starting tomorrow. This will be "Atlanta Week" on Mockernut, and you'll see tons of photos.
