A Different California

I recently spent a week with a friend who lives in the same mountain range that I do, but down in a wide canyon in the foothills. It is a very different California than the one I live in. I had a lot of pictures that I intended to post here, but I've been having problems uploading pictures to my blog. Getting these two on here took an hour! So, I guess I will just have to content myself with the two pictures of beautiful California Poppies, our state flower. They grow wild all around her house, covering acres with gold and orange glory.

She lost her home not once, but twice, to wildfire. I think the home she lives in now, built in the same place as her former homes, will not be harmed if, God/dess forbid, another wildfire comes through. Its walls are built of amber colored stone, and are three feet thick. Its roof is tile, sealed in the curves so that embers with evil intent will find no welcome there. The eaves are also sealed and there are fireproof shutters to cover all the windows and doors. It is a fortress against fire, but a beautiful one. It reminds me of homes I saw when I was in Tuscany.

Gone is the dense Live Oak forest and Manzanita bushes. The whole canyon is far more open, except for the Alder trees by the creek, which is small in width but deep, with wider pools perfect for swimming.

Sitting on her stone patio, surrounded by large, elegant urns of flowers in purple, yellow, and orange, listening to the calls of birds that I never see or hear in the alpine forest where I live, I feel that I am in another country. In the distance I can see the Italian Cypresses she has planted, standing tall, narrow and deeply green against the green-brown hills that enclose the canyon. The sky is a wide swath of brilliant blue, much more sky than I am used to seeing all at once. Winding, honey colored stone steps lead down from the patio to the hot pink blooms of a carpet of ice plant (a plant that has so much water in its stems it will not burn) that surrounds her house. A stone path wends its way down a gentle slope carpeted with poppies, pale pink wild roses, Mexican Primroses, and daisies, ending at the alders by the creek.

Walking back up from the creek I see fat, furry black and yellow Bumble bees having a fine time in all the flowers. When I sit on a large rock along side the path mid-way up the slope to catch my breath, one of the Bumbles comes over to perch companionably on my knee. We regard each other for a bit, then she flies back to sing her humming song with her family. Their song, combined with the scent of the many flowers, the somnolent warmth of the day, and the quiet murmuring of the creek as it flows, so different from the rushing of the stream by my house in spring, lulls me into sleep. I awake to find one of the little jewel colored lizards that live in this canyon staring at me, no more that an inch away from my nose. It is a beautiful emerald green color and seems mildly surprised that I have opened my eyes. Then a hummingbird zooms over, startling both of us, and the little gem of a lizard is gone. I leave too, to go up to the house for dinner, then to bed to dream, not of golden California poppies, but the beautiful red poppies of Tuscany.

The Wisteria Tree

This wisteria vine, growing up through a 75 foot Cedar tree, puts on a beautiful show every year in spring. I've grown wisteria on my property but I found that the fragrance, so heavenly to me in small doses, gave me a migraine when combined with the fragrance of lilacs...

and apple blossoms.

It hurt my heart to cut it down, but I consoled myself with the thought that I could always go to see the "Wisteria Tree," conveniently located next to an old fashioned ice cream parlor.

Today a friend and I visited the ice cream parlor and were pleased to see the Wisteria Tree looking great. We ate our hot fudge coffee ice cream sundaes outside on the little patio under the tree, listening to the bees singing in the wisteria and the breeze rustling the pines, thinking that, sometimes life is pretty darn good.

Then an acquaintance of ours walked by and said, "Wow, you two are going to have to WALK home to work off those sundaes! At our ages we really have to watch the calories, you know."

Oh, good grief!

Ladybug Day

Today the Ladybugs hatched here. Thousands, maybe millions, of them flying in huge swarms in the sunny patches in our forest. I love Ladybugs and I anxiously watch each spring for the day they will hatch. It's never on the same day every year. I guess it depends on the weather. I like to go out and let them land on me. They're very polite; I've never had more than ten at a time land on me. I also hurry to give the plants in my garden a shower with the hose so the Ladybugs will be drawn to my plants instead of the creek or lake. I've read that they're very thirsty after they hatch, so if the plants in your garden have water on them the Ladybugs will stay around, instead of flying off in search of water. I made particularly sure that my poor, struggling rose bushes were drenched so the Ladybugs could not only get a drink but eat the dratted aphids that are attacking the tender, new shoots the roses are putting out. Poor roses; they don't get as much sun as they should, and are a little spindly, but they bloom valiantly all summer long, especially the Fairy Rose. I wonder if the Ladybugs tell each other about the "all you can eat and drink free bar and buffet" in my garden and what kind of directions would they use? Maybe something like, "Fly past the purple lilacs until you come to the first white one, then take a sharp left. When you come to the pink lilac, take a sharp right, fly past the group of cedar trees, turn left by the big holly bush, and there you are!"

Hello, Gorgeous!

This gorgeous guy is a Black Headed Grosbeak, the Western variety of Grosbeaks. He and his missus have been partaking of the bounty at our feeders for the past several weeks, and gathering nesting materials from around our yards. She is very shy and I haven't been able to get a picture of her. She's a light tannish-gold and doesn't have the black head like her mate, but has dark brown stripes above and below her eye. I haven't seen her in the past two days, so I hope she's sitting on their eggs in a nest somewhere close by.

I guess he thought I was too close; I was sitting on my front porch and the tree that he was in is only about 20 feet from where I was. He flew up into a much higher tree and turned his back, but still kept a wary eye on me. So, I took the hint and went inside. I guess he hasn't made the connection that I'm the one who puts out the food. And...wait a minute...is he sneering at me?!

Nature's Promise

Baby red oak leaves

Holding a summer promise

In their sharp green tips

Yawn

That's all I'm doing...yawning. I'd really like to go to sleep, but for some reason, sleep is avoiding me tonight. It's 1:00 a.m. here in California, and I've been up since 6 a.m., I had a busy day, so where's the sandman? I'd like to go for a walk but the moon isn't anywhere near full. I can't even see a tiny little sliver of her. And while the stars are huge and bright, they're not bright enough to light my way through the forest.

The last time I felt like this I took a flashlight, roused my dogs and went ahead and went for a walk, staying on the path...and I stepped right into a big pile of bear poop. At first, I was just extremely annoyed because I thought it was dog poop. Then I noticed the way my dogs were acting and I took a closer look and saw the seeds and other things that identified it as bear scat. We don't have Grizzlies here (THANK GOD!!) but our little black bears can be testy sometimes. Especially, I suppose, if some idiot woman were to run into them in the dark.

I started talking to my dogs, telling them to stay calm, stay close to Mommy, don't be scared, yada yada yada. Then I looked around and saw that my dang dogs had already taken off! Right about now I was really wishing I had taken their advice and stayed home; they hadn't wanted to come out for a walk in the first place.

So I start shining my flashlight around and talking in a loud voice (because someone once told me you should let the bear know you're there) saying, "Hello bear, if you can see me, and I really hope you can't...no, no I hope you CAN so you can avoid me because I really don't want to meet you...well, I mean I'm sure you're very nice, I didn't mean to be rude, OH ANYWAY, I mean you no harm" when a voice right behind me says succinctly, "Why don't you just tell him you're from the planet Looney and you come in peace?"

Well, at least that showed me that I have a strong, healthy heart because, by rights, I should have had a heart attack right then and there. It also showed me that another part of my body is strong because I didn't leave a "pile" of my own on the path. But my husband? Well...I bet he'll never follow me around in the dark and make smart-ass remarks EVER AGAIN. Even if it did take me a while to catch him.

Insane Heat

The high yesterday was 75 and I thought that was crazy. Today it was 80 degrees!! And it's still April!!! The cherry tree in the above picture had buds on it two days ago, tight, little, nowhere-near-open buds. At least, I think it's a cherry tree because the blossoms look similar to a tree a friend of mine has. This was a volunteer and this is the first year it has bloomed. It's very tall for a cherry tree, but then so is her Ranier cherry tree.

Anyway, back to these insane temperatures. This time of year we're usually still getting spring snow, either heavy and wet or the consistency of popcorn. And our normal highs range from 33 to 45.

I hate this. I hate the feeling that all of nature is out of balance. We've lost over a million Ponderosa Pines in these mountains to the Pine Bark Beetle since 2001 because the warmer temperatures weakened their natural resistance to the little monsters. When we cut down the dead trees on our land (it's a fire hazard to leave them standing) we found that many were over 400 years old. It broke my heart.

I have a friend who lives along the coast of British Columbia. She said the Pine and Spruce Beetle arrived there this past summer and did quite a lot of damage, but that the trees in the interior of BC were affected even more: Millions of acres of dead trees. Millions of acres.

What kind of planet will the children of today have by the time they are adults? Will they have to show their grandchildren pictures of trees? Pictures of vast green forests, bears, mountain lions, polar bears,clear mountain streams, snow?

I hope not.

First Violets of Spring

I was beginning to wonder if my violets would come back this Spring. Usually they're up long before now; sometimes they've even bloomed as early as February (well, only once, but still...). I have violets all over my garden, front yard and back, and they are precious to me. Why? When I moved into this cottage in the early 1970's, I dug up some violets from my mother's garden. They bloomed, spread and thrived in the following years.

Mama passed in 1994. She could be likened to violets; beautiful but tenacious, delicate-looking but with an inner core of pure steel, able to not only withstand harsh, devastating storms but go on to become even stronger after the storms retreated. The words have not been invented to convey how much I miss her. But she comes back to me...every Spring when her violets bloom.

Where!?!

I've been looking around a lot of blogs today because I've had to stay inside. I was outside all day yesterday and there's something out there that really aggravated my allergies. I can't think what it would be; there's nothing blooming except for daffodils and pussy willows and they've never been a problem before. Today it's horribly windy (gusts to 70 mph) so I decided the prudent thing to do would be to stay indoors.

I noticed a lot of blogs have a thing called "Feedjit" that shows where you're from. Or, at least, I guess that's what it's supposed to do. It has me showing up from various different places that are, at minimum, 150 miles away from here and one place is about 600 miles from where I live (I had to look it up on a map). And I haven't arrived from the same place twice! Ahh, the Internet...a mystifying place indeed.

So Well Dressed!

I looked out my studio window this afternoon and saw this beautiful Northern Flicker Woodpecker sitting on an arbor. They're one of my favorite birds with their gorgeous spots on their chests, the bright "rouge" on their cheeks, and the dapper "cravat" at their necks. When they fly, one can see that the underside of their wings are the same color as the "rouge" on their cheeks. They're always impeccably dressed; wish I could say the same for myself! ;-)

Spring Cloud Day

It was a lovely, cloudy day here today. I don't say "foggy" day, because this isn't fog. At this elevation we're actually up in the clouds. When I took this photo yesterday it was sunny behind me, and I was watching the clouds pour over the ridge down into the deep hollow where I live. Last night we had "tree rain," which is what we call the moisture that condenses on the trees, some of them 200 feet high, and then falls to earth.

The silence of a day like today is different from the silence of a snow shrouded winter day. This silence is also devoid of human noises, as in the winter, but not animal sounds. I made a large fire in the fireplace and then opened the windows. My animals always think I'm nuts for doing this, but I like to hear the sounds of a spring "cloud day". The quiet patter of the tree rain dropping down, the creek gurgling along, happy to be free of the ice...

The Red Breasted Nuthatch checks out one of the feeders...

so does the Chickadee.................

while the Steller's Jay has his peanut!

I can hear these birds, along with the Purple Finches, Acorn Woodpeckers, Northern Flickers, Robins and a flock of Song Sparrows calling to each other as they wait their turns at the feeders. Maybe they're sharing the latest news of the day; who saw what, the fine piece of yarn Mrs. Jay found for her nest, and the trouble Mr. Chickadee got into with the Mrs. when she found out he was twittering at that flirty Miss Chickadee!

The squirrels come in for their peanuts after the birds have left. I can hear their little claws on the bark of the trees as they scramble down to the feeder...

I love the sounds and the sights of a spring cloud day, and it always makes me happy knowing that the birds and squirrels who have come here hungry are going back to their homes with full tummies because of the food I've put out for them.

Chloe's Message to Vicki

We are NOT amused.

Transformations

Spring is really gaining momentum here... finally! These little leaves on this Pink Sierra Currant bush are about half the size of my little fingernail now, but soon they will mature to the size of quarters. Then the bush will put out clusters of tiny, bell shaped pink flowers that the Hummingbirds adore. In Autumn there will be clusters of small, blue-grey, berries that the birds love. Humans can eat them also, but I'd rather leave them for the birds.

The transformations of spring are always amazing to me, no matter that I have seen many seasons of nature's alchemies. Bare branches magically make little buds that turn into beautiful green leaves, some with flowers among them that will eventually turn into edible fruits for animals and humans. Other plants birth themselves out of hard soil and then form beautiful flowers that will produce nectar for the bees to collect and turn into honey! It's all so wondrous to me, each and every time.

In Spring I am always reminded of this quote. This person must have felt the same feelings of awe and wonder that Spring produces in me:

"If seeds in the black earth can turn into such beautiful roses, what might not the heart of the human become in its long journey toward the stars?"

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

The Delegation

These little Purple Finches were waiting for me when I went out this morning to fill the feeders. I felt like they thought that somehow the snow that fell last night was my fault, and they were the delegation elected by the other birds to let me know they did NOT approve. I told them, "Hey, don't look at me in that tone of chirp; I don't control the weather!"

I know many people would scoff at my anthropomorphism, but I believe that, if you pay close attention, it is sometimes possible to discern what animals are trying to tell us. I believe this is especially true of our companion animals (known in this cottage as "our children in fur.")

And sometimes you don't have to pay attention at all. They make it crystal clear. I remember once, in early autumn, I was sitting in a chair under the apple tree closest to our house and reading a book when a green apple hit me in the head. I thought, "Huh. Must have had a weak stem." Then, about a minute later, another one hit me. This time I picked it up and looked at it. It had had one tiny bite taken out of it. While I was pondering this, another one hit me in the head. I looked up into the tree and there was a squirrel. He pulled another apple off the branch, took one bite and threw it at me! I think he was telling me the apples tasted terrible. Well yeah, they weren't ripe. I caught the last apple and threw it back at him. I have terrible aim, so I missed him and he just smirked at me. He reached for another apple and I yelled, "Touch that apple and you're dead meat, buddy!" I would never hurt any animal, but he didn't know I was bluffing, and he left in a big huff, scolding me as he went.  Hmmmm...

Storm Coming In

The snow is mostly melted now; the Daffodil buds are just about ready to open. However, Spring is the most unpredictable season in these mountains. These clouds are the outriders of a storm that is supposed to dump a half foot of snow on us tonight and as fast as the barometer is falling, I think the weatherman may be right this time.

I find Spring to be a lot like life. The sky is blue, the sun is shining and there are even a few flowers around for a bonus. Then, WHAM! A storm hits before you can blink twice. There are some storms you can prepare for, but some take you completely by surprise and there's nothing you can do but pull up the hood of your coat, tuck your head down and keep on going. And it helps to remember, if you can, that eventually the storm will pass and the sun will shine on you again, even if the storm has left the landscape of your life altered forever.

Pansy Tea

                                (Left click to enlarge photo)
"Pansy Tea" is the title of this painting I did a couple of years ago. I used acrylic on 140 lb. watercolor paper, spraying the paper first with a light coat of Matte Krylon to give me more control over bleeding. I still have the cup; I'm drinking tea from it right now (Earl Grey).  And...in the painting, the shelf is straight.  I suppose I tilted the camera when I was taking a photo of it.  Serves me right for not using a tripod!

Couldn't Have Said it Better Myself!

I think this duck is expressing his opinion of AIG and I agree completely. I've had to quit watching television because, the last time I did, I got so mad I pitched my book at the screen. Thank goodness I've terrible aim. It is beyond my comprehension why people who have run a company into the ground should get BONUSES!! And, WHY should we taxpayers have to pay for these bonuses!? If I think about that too long, it causes me to start having really evil thoughts. Plus, I get terrible heartburn. I heard earlier today that the government is going to try to get most of that money back. I certainly hope they succeed. Ok, enough of that.


Happy St. Patrick's Day!!

(Oh look, the little mouse only has a 3 leaf clover, instead of a 4 leaf clover. Poor little guy must have invested in AIG...)

Grumble, Grumble...

I drove down to my sister's today to help her plant her annuals. Her Irises are already blooming, which made me grumble about how nothing, NOTHING, is blooming up here in the mountains yet. Not even my Crocuses or Daffodils. But here we are, planting Impatiens, Pelargoniums, Lobelia, Ivy Leafed Geraniums, Begonias, Zinnas, Lisianthus and just too many others to list. She said that she would love to be able to grow what I have that blooms in the Spring: Tulips, Apple and Pear trees, Lilacs, Dogwoods, and Columbines.



My sister and I do this back and forth grumbling every Spring. But really we both love being able to have the best of both worlds. The soil is still too cold to work up here, so I really like being able to plunge my hands into the earth (ungloved, so my nails are always a mess in growing season, but if I wear gloves I can't tell if the plants' little roots are comfortably settled :D). My sister is always glad to escape the heat where she lives and come up a couple of times in the Autumn and help me plant bulbs and harvest apples and pears.



My sister is in her seventies and I'm in my fifties. For the past several years I've been very aware that my sister may not be able to do these things the next season, so I treasure these times even more.



But as of now, she's strong and healthy (knock on wood) and sent me home yesterday with some Pansies that were beginning to be unhappy with the warm weather.








I put them in a hanging basket so if it gets below freezing (as it most surely will several more times before the end of April) I can just bring them into my studio. When temperatures permit, they hang outside my kitchen window, on the sunniest side of the house, and I smile every time I look at them.

It's On Its Way

Spring, that is. I saw this guy (or girl, who can tell with Robins?) while trudging out to fill the feeders this morning, the first Robin of Spring. We still have a lot of snow on the ground, but today warmed up enough so that the snow is starting to melt off the tree branches. The Ponderosa Pines are, mostly, around 200 feet tall and they collect huge clumps of snow in their branches. These clumps solidify during the various thaws, freezes, and grow a little larger with each snowfall, so when they do finally fall out of the trees they come down as one huge chunk. When I'm inside it sounds like someone is dropping large rocks on the roof, and when I'm outside I feel like I should wear a hard hat!

A Visit to My Sister

It's only about an hour and a half drive "down the mountain," as we mountain folk say, to my sister's home in Redlands, but it's a world away in terms of climate. It's already springtime where she lives! She grows oranges and sells them locally. This gorgeous tree (I forget its name) is blooming by her driveway.



and this is the view looking from her back yard.


There are oranges on the trees already! You can see the foothills of the mountains where I live; the actual mountains are hidden behind the storm clouds. My big sister always sends me home with a couple of bags of oranges during this time of year, so my husband and I will be enjoying fresh squeezed orange juice with breakfast for the next couple of weeks.

No matter how many times I make this drive I'm always amazed at the difference in our climates. We both feel blessed to have the best of both worlds. When I just cannot take one more day of cold and snow, I can drive to warmth and blooming flowers, and when the temperatures climb to over 100 degrees F in the summer down where she lives my sister can drive up here and enjoy the lakes, the clean air and temperatures that are 20 to 30 degrees cooler.
Driving back up, the foothill portion of the road starts out as a 4 lane highway but quickly narrows into a 2 lane road. I'm at about the 1,100 foot level right now and by the time I get to the 3,000 foot level the fog (actually clouds) will be horribly thick and I will start to see the first light snow. And, eventually, I'll see deeper snow,

and soon be in by my warm hearth in the living room (this photo was taken last Christmas).

Mountain Roads

I had to drive to Lake Arrowhead today. I needed groceries and we only have a small store near where I live, which charges exorbitant prices. I snapped a couple of pictures while driving - just held out the camera and clicked. I was surprised that they came out. It annoys me intensely that the roads that the locals use the most to get around look like the one above and this:


but the roads to the ski areas are totally clean of snow and ice. I guess I shouldn't complain, though, since during the storm before this last one our road didn't get plowed at all. GRRRRRRR.....

Nearly Wordless Wednesday

Took this last week during a sunny-day walk around the lake. Today I can barely see the trees at the edge of my yard due to blowing snow.