Though perhaps not technicolor, I must report that on my large looping road trip this evening from southwest Fort Worth into the south end of Dallas, intersecting the city on the major north/south interstate highway, then exiting the far north end via a different interstate highway headed back west and following a leisurely "S" swoop through downtown Fort Worth, that there were lots of colorful lights. [Five extra points on your test if you correctly diagram that sentence.] The State of Texas has finally gotten serious about the drivers who race past highway work crews. Not only are the signs clearly place indicating "double fines when workers are present," they now sent out a auto armada, a fleet of Fords, perhaps even a bevy of Chevies (yeah, I know. . .automatopoeia failed on that last one. . .sorry, I couldn't resist. . .) but they put flashing strobes and blue and red bars on top and yellow blinking arrows and fully-flashing police vehicles to chase down offenders. There were lots of these crews out. And if you were so fortunate as to be in an area free of the Ford Flotillas, then you were in the land of Barnett Shale and the many and sundry gas wells springing up like toadstools on the landscape. Tall very brightly lit towers, each rising from broad base crouching on the crushed stone bed they prepared for it.

And now that I'm home there aren't blinking lights, but it is 1am in the morning and there are foxes singing their yipping song and a mockingbird going hammer-and-tongs trying to indict some poor other bird with the charge of disturbing the peace. It always gives him away as a mockingbird when he does the car alarm. The grackles can't do alarms nearly so well.