Barking up the Wrong Tree?

There is a lovely little trio of river birch trees growing in my front yard. Their bark is so striking when the sun shines on the trunks. They sort of take on a golden glow with these rusty flags of loose bark that wave in the breeze and make a gentle rustling sound. I know these trees are not indigenous to the area, but I still love them. 

I don't know, you probably have to see this in person to appreciate the effect of both the texture and color. To top it all off, when the branches are weighed down with leaves, they hang low - almost to the ground - providing shade for the plants that grow around it. Or the person and dog that sit underneath to watch the world go by. 

Speaking of dogs (who also bark), Baloo finds it easier to keep from getting too excited about his dinner hour if he holds something in his mouth while he awaits the completion of suppertime preparations. Or maybe he's just waiting to trade a prized possession for a full dish of kibbles and gravy. On this occasion he chose a well-cleaned marrow bone, but held it so that it looked like he was making a big "O" with his lips. He won the goofy award for the day (yes, I know, that usually goes to me....).