Bread on the Water

Encouraged to be quiet too...

2012-02-08T06:31:00.000-08:00

The path of light,

moon over water,

wind visible in all that it moves,

the dark trees,

the ocean swells

one lone boat fishing its own small circle of yellow light...

and me waking in the early quiet

watching like a cat at the window.

(c) Jeannette at breadonthewater.com

Encouraged to Communicate...

2012-02-03T10:41:00.000-08:00

I recently shared on my Write Purpose Blog an article by Ralph McInerny called The Writing Life that I had unearthed sorting through old publications....and then I found this poem of his too:

Effable

1

Where are words when not yet spoken: on the tongue, in the mind, perhaps in air, nowhere? Their meanings, more elusive still, unbreathed await articulation, though I have heard in the beginning was the word.

2
Mutes and dentals shape the air that tongue addresses to the ear: speech is the mystery we hear. Animals are dumb,
their braying, chirp, and bark a mere semblance of speech, lacking that shared spark when speaker and hearer commune like hands that meet at noon.

Archived in December 2008 First Things

I am encouraged to communicate....

After the Rain

2012-01-21T18:01:00.000-08:00

Your Christmas Card from the Coast...A Christmas Jade of Green

2011-12-24T00:01:00.000-08:00

In Carmel town the shop windows have little nests of abalone shells and jewelry made of jade found on beaches south of Big Sur.

These five shells are no bigger than the palm of your hand.

The tiniest one is only 1.5 inches long.

We had never been to Jade Cove before and so we took a ride down the coast. It's amazing that we made the sixty mile trip, because, of course, while we were still north of Point Sur, I wanted

to stop

and take in the view

around every bend.

And we had to stop when, way far down below us, I saw a lone fox on the shore.

And then there was the bakery stop...

with pretty Protea blooming on the path...how is that for joyous color?

Or are you more into blues...with verdant green paths that beg for a beautiful horse so surefooted that the fact that you don't know how to ride in no way inhibits the vision?

But we must keep going, look how that sun is dropping near the horizon.

It sets early these winter days and

we are about to be stopped by a red light controlling traffic to one lane at a time.

This is the site of a covered bridge being built near Limekiln State Park along side a sheer cliff
of frequently tumbling rocks. The link here is to photos taken by a Big Sur resident who was invited up into the crane on this coastal cliff job site. It was passed along to me by Katie at Nature ID, see her comment below and check out her page, she is always teaching me something.

And then we arrive, we are there, or should I say we are 150 vertical feet above "there."

The trail down to Jade Cove is steep. Wearing good shoes is a must...

unless you are a goat.

I did slip in the rocks once...one foot got wet...all of me was scared and then relieved and very grateful.

Of course the semi-precious jade is elusive and picked over and all the rocks are a wonder and enter into the fully precious realm in my book.

We weren't alone picking through the rocks and divers were in the water.
A search of Jade Cove on the internet will offer many warnings and provisos and advice... including one visitor's suggestions that if you really want some Big Sur Jade perhaps you should just buy some jade from a happy hippie jade person in Big Sur.

Climbing back up to beat the setting sun we stop

to watch whales spouting and see more tail than I captured on ~~film~~ pixels.

But the sun does keep right on doing what it set out this morning to do and continues its course...and yes we saw a green flash. You may think we just had green on the brain...but we did see a brilliant

Christmas shade of green!

The regulations allow you to take what you can gather non- mechanically

and carry by hand.

We brought home a few pebbles...

This is our best piece of jade.
There are stories about the hefty gems hauled out of here in days of old...
you know 32 pounds of solid jade and such.
This stone is 1.25 inches across. And we got just what we were after; a day of sun and birds and light on the water.

Wishing you joyous holiday times...

Jeannette

What Matters is...

2011-12-02T12:30:00.000-08:00

I will have to track down where this comes from in the volumes of C. S. Lewis...but it is too good a quote to not share in the meantime.

Don't bother ~~too~~ much about your feelings. When they are humble, loving, brave, give thanks for them: when they are conceited, selfish, cowardly, ask to have them altered. In neither case are they you, but only a thing that happens to you. What matters is your intentions and your behaviour.

~An Evening Edit~
After doing various work and errands today I returned to my desk and before I could begin my search for the source of this quote I found that a kind anonymous soul had left me this comment:

hi there, i, too, was trying to track down the source of this quote, and i've found it, so i thought i ought to share it with you. (:
it's from Letters of C. S. Lewis (edited by W. H. Lewis). there are a few typos in the quote you posted; the actual quote actually says:
"Don't bother much about your feelings. When they are humble, loving, brave, give thanks for them: when they are conceited, selfish, cowardly, ask to have them altered. In neither case are they you, but only a thing that happens to you. What matters is your intentions and your behaviour."

— C. S. Lewis, letter to Mrs Sonia Graham, June 13, 1951, Letters of C. S. Lewis (edited by W. H. Lewis)

So thank you, Anonymous. I've crossed out the "too" and italicized the "you" which does highlight meaning and have a source to quote as well. I hope you 'll come visit and comment on my posts again.
And as I bumbled around today, I thought about these words of C.S.L. more than once...
~~~
Editing continued on Saturday morn ... Whoever you are, Anon, you would be a great proofreader! I have now also fixed the semi-colon that needed to be a colon from your second alert. Such small details can really make a difference, and I for one do not want to promote mistakes in other's excellent work. Thank you.
I picked the quote up off a Facebook page dedicated to C.S. Lewis. I will now try to be as diligent as my anonymous commenter and let those folks know of their errata.

A Trip to the Nursery, Pear Cactus, Fairy Gardens But No Real Dogs

2011-11-17T20:05:00.000-08:00

We were out doing errands and I was happy to find my camera in my purse.

It was sunny on the coast Wednesday, but inland in Carmel Valley the sky was truly blue.

These prickly pear cactus fruits were ripening aloft, about ten feet above the ground. As to the size of the entire bank of cactus, it could easily rival a school bus. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing this specimen and was glad that I didn't need to prune, clean or otherwise tend to any of its pads which were growing every which way, very spiney and lassoed with the silken threads of multiple spider webs.

After a quick stop at the lumbar yard we went to a nursery that sells canine statuary but does not allow the real thing. I understand, but maybe that sign should be on a lion or on an elephant. Poor dog, making him disallow his living prototypes.

The nursery was selling (very expensive) fairy gardens in large flat pots. This one has a tiny chair, hat and bicycle under a silver Dusty Miller pruned to look tree-like. Small succulents mimic the place of century plants in a full size garden. Irish moss makes a great ground cover.

This is all in a pot not much bigger than one of those cactus pads, that is to say a little smaller than the circle you can make with your arms, and there is quite a lot going on including,

a shapely tree with a tire swing. The fairies have dropped their gardening tools in the blue star creeper. Neither one of them was doing any watering or pruning. The red wagon is empty... Maybe those rosettes of succulents look like large cactus pads to them and they just can't quite imagine taking care of it. I wondered about how high the swing was hung, but then I realized, of course, fairies could access on the wing. I wasn't tempted to buy at nearly $300. but maybe having seen them will inspire some playful tableau in some pot on my deck. a few years ago I sold some toys and dolls on Ebay and enjoyed staging them in the garden.

The tin woodsman stood in the violas and lobelia.

A 1940's bisque Nancy Ann doll fit right in the fuschia flowers.

Sometimes, when the mushrooms are pushing their way up through the forest floor I think of creating diorama type scenes...but usually I'm on my way from one task to another and have thus far been pleased with just capturing an au natural photos of the fungi themselves... but can't you see a small tableau in this cluster?

I suspect I just like taking pictures...

Even rats might not be safe from my camera...stuffed ones...(Please notice he does not have a sign around his neck saying "no rats" but that isn't a bad idea, if only it would work.)

and r e a l ones that fall for the peanut butter. That is a "have a heart trap"and this rat got the catch and release treatment and might be enjoying wildcat canyon as home. Maybe the wildcat canyon rats put up statues of bobcats and mountain lions reading.."no cats" ?

~~~~~~~~~

Headlines that Make Me Bake Pies and Watch the Sunset...

2011-11-13T00:17:00.000-08:00

My grandmother was a songwriter in the 30's and 40's. Long after she had stopped working she would still come up with lyrics and music that might be her "come back." There is one of those later compositions that is dear to me that we found after she was gone... I'll just share one line:

"Don't worry if the morning papers have headlines that make you feel blue..."

They could, couldn't they? After many hours of reading and thinking ( after many hours of working too ) I decided the best place for blue is in a pie...well blackberries...anyway.

And then I decided that I really don't

have enough pictures of the

sunset so I took 44 pictures while my blue-ish pie was baking.

Kitty Bumpkins was casually escorting ...

And I did as I had been bid in an email I had received earlier...

and said, " Hello Pacific Ocean from Rosannah!"

And one more picture now to say...hello dear blog readers from

Jeannette :

Save a Dollar Now...Eschew Plastic

2011-10-25T11:30:00.000-07:00

Jeannette's three dollars worth....

It is often true of me that I don't bother to look further into many issues of life. This morning Nature ID featured a "California Sand Dollar." As she says, " I'm assuming most people are okay simply knowing it's a sand dollar and don't bother to look any further as to what kind of animal this is. I've included the best links I could find..."

So for me, as for many people, a sand dollar is a sand dollar by any other name, but today I read further and learned that the diet of Dendraster excentricus, aka, the Pacific sand dollar, includes "particulate detritus. "

Thinking of the mineral rich soup of the ocean reminded me of reading I have done off and on about plastic. What happens to plastic when its short life of convenience to us is over and its long life of degradation begins? One place plastic keeps showing up is in the ocean; not only in visible floating pieces that beach combers can pop back into the garbage when bottles and bags and plastic parts wash up....but in teeny tiny confetti, alphabet soup down to microscopic molecular goo size pieces that ocean life ingests when they are after the mineral rich organic detritus that is their right fare.

So I have been trying to eschew plastic. You know, eschew as in abstain from, refrain from, give up, forgo, shun, renounce, steer clear of, have nothing to do with, relinquish, reject, forswear...
( aren't dictionaries fun books?)

It isn't easy, and all I can claim is to have made some progress...but I keep having experiences that remind to be more careful what I create a demand for by being careful what I purchase.

This trip to the local dump...it was a good reminder.
As their common name implies Pacific sand dollars can be found from Baja California to Alaska.

For many people it is a bit of thrill, a touchstone, a reminder of creation's beauty and mystery to find a fragile ornate exoskeleton in the tide line on a sandy beach.

So think about saving a dollar...I don't have any gold dollars to photograph for you, but I have many golden moments in life courtesy of nature's beauty and bounty.
From land's perspective we see only a hint of all the life in the sea. When I think of how ubiquitous plastic is becoming in the world's waters, it spurs me on to keep on reducing my use of vessels and objects that I'll some day have to throw away.

And by the way...where is "away" anyway?

Butterflies and Bees in the Flowers all the Live Long Day

2011-10-12T20:44:00.000-07:00

It was, after five days of many people enjoying the place, a quiet day and the sun was out.

I was glad to see Monarch Butterflies feeding in the flowers in the morning

and the waves crashing on the cliffs.

The bees were also on the last of this year's Pride of Madeira flowers and neither the bees nor the butterflies seemed to mind me right in their midst... unlike

this little green hued hummingbird ( it is sipping from the flower on the right, if you enlarge you can see how much its light reflections match the sun on the green plants) who sensed me hiding behind a tree and flew off after one sip and my one photo when I walked down near the end of the day to see if the Monarchs were still feeding.

The afternoon light wasn't right for talking this picture...but I did.

And they still were, the butterflies,

fluttering in the flowers...

as the last of the sun's rays lit the shore.

and then....

A Peek Behind the Garden Gate Part III

2011-10-01T21:28:00.000-07:00

Where were we?

If you are just joining me now... Part I and Part II might be fun to see first....if you'd like.

Here's that path in the sunshine in the morning....but you see the line of shadow...that's baby tears territory. Plants either fail to thrive here, or they want to jump over and cover the wall...so it is going to be ground cover from now on.

This photo is for a blogger who is frequently seeking to uncover bed rock ideas or looking to remind folks of foundational realities...
This is a corner of the main house.

I told you you might get lost wandering around...that isn't the neighbor's, it is a room of the greenhouse.

That rock, frosted with ice plant, has been a hotly contested nesting site. Canada geese pick it, seagulls raid it and the neighbor in the curve of the cove begs anyone else who might disturb the birds to resist the temptation of climbing up there.

Workmanship...not technology...vision, natural resources, hard work, an understanding of the laws of mathematics and physics... the road wasn't even paved when this was built.

Of course the greenhouse is a good reminder that a little technology isn't bad either...

but simple is a favorite for many

the trees that have fallen have their own tales to tell

It's already sunset again...and October now too.

Life is full of changing seasons and good-byes.

This picture is especially for Charity...

It has been a lovely Saturday.... when I let a kitty out this morn, I followed her out and wound up perching on the edge of this hammock, rocking myself awake and watching the humming birds... but there's been no napping and both kitties are in where they belong, safe for the night ( if you have never read why kitties coming home at night is an issue, you might enjoy reading this post) so time for me to take my rest too. I hope you've enjoyed peeking here and there in the garden...

I always appreciate your visits here to me.

A Peek Behind the Garden Gate Part II

2011-09-30T21:48:00.000-07:00

Earlier in the month- there are three hours left of September, if I type fast I can still say "earlier in the month" and have it mean what I mean it to say- I invited you in for a Peek Behind the Garden Gate and then without squiring you around much I left, a rare occurance, and went up to the Sierra Nevada mountains... so while I wait for the cats to come home tonight I will upload a few photos of other vistas in and from the gardens that I took after sunset this evening.

My flash went off and lit the fern fronds
but if I crop them out, you won't be able to see the handsome gate.

Down the main path toward the main house...all the plants on the left edge have been dug out and transplanted elsewhere this week....baby tears and blue star creeper are going to hug the path. The wall is so lovely it the eye simply wants to wind smoothly right down the wall and see out to the sea. I 'll take a morning sun photograph some time soon...

Sitting in an old stuffed chair outside the cottage front door....

Another bench studies this view...you are looking south west

The light on the water changes all day long but the evening changes startle with beauty and stir both longings and gratitudes.

Are the waters backdrop or are the features of the land, the trees and bushes, simply a frame for the waters?

The chimneys of the main house under a crescent moon....still no cats...but I must say good night.

The Most Important Nutrient ... Bread for Thought

2011-09-29T08:27:00.000-07:00

Sometimes

when I eat I realize that gratitude

might be

the most important ingredient

of my breakfast..

nay of the whole day!

Wild Life in the Wild West

2011-09-24T18:54:00.000-07:00

When contemplating going into the high Sierras it can stir the memory of the times a bear has been encountered or perhaps the long nose and sleek coat of a fox was spotted, or when dark beaded eyes shared a moment's recognition. So when walking quietly on the needles of the forest floor, how could I not take this picture of this winsome wild life?

Do you see him? He posed ever so briefly and then our time together was over. It is none the less remarkable how a small creature out doing his creature business in the land where he was born and raised can give delight.

This was our destination...the maps do not name this granite dome but do note that the top is 8736 feet elevation. We named it Gumdrop.

A tree at the foot of Gumdrop Hill.

The views as the climb begins.

From the top of Gumdrop looking north and eastward.

Pretty in every direction, this is a view toward the dam which is at the southern end of Courtright Resevoir reservoir.

Mark thought I might need proof that I got up there...
there were a few "inch by inch it's a cinch moments."

Later in the afternoon, Mark took me out in the canoe.

We pulled up on the far shore which was a huge granite slab dotted with large stones that had rolled to rest.

I wandered a bit, head down poking around in the driftwood amongst the boulders when suddenly a large eagle flew directly over my head. I was so glad I looked up from my beach combing.

Mark captured these pictures. I had left my camera behind not confident that I wouldn't somehow take it for a swim. Mark got me back safe and dry...I should have known.

Our dear hostess took this photo of me, as I was scribbling away before the fire. Now you know the truth, we weren't even roughing it...wild life indeed.

A Moment of Quiet in a Forest of California Sierra Mountain Giant Sequoia Trees

2011-09-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

On the way up into the California Sierra mountains, in the mixed conifer forest between Dinkey Creek and Courtright Reservoir, is a grove of Sequoia Trees that have never been logged.

McKinley Grove is a small grove, but they are giant trees. Giant sequoias, Sequoiadendron giganteum, are the world's largest trees. They only grow between 5,000 to 8,000 feet elevation.

As early as 1869, or maybe from the trees point of view, as late as 1869, ( they are after all among the oldest living things on the earth, as some of them are estimated to be 2,000 years old) this grove was discovered by explorers.

A local pioneer and lover of the Sierras, Frank Dusy, named it the "General Washington Grove." Later, for a time, the name was changed to "Dusy Grove" to honor Dusy who died in 1898. There is still a creek named Dusy Creek. The grove remained in the public domain until the establishment of the Sierra Forest Reserve in 1893. In the early 1900's it was renamed by Robert Marshal in recognition of the 25th president of the United States. Robert Marshal had a doctorate in forestry and the vision to protect the grove. The Forest Service continues to manage and preserve this rare and historical resource.

The tallest tree towers over 230 feet.

And no matter how good of a hugger you might be, you can't wrap your arms around the diameter of these trees. The largest tree still standing in the grove is 20.3 feet in diameter. There are over two hundred trees that are over 6 feet in diameter. These three folks, like many other people, had their photo taken in front of one of the trees. While I trust they don't mind being used to establish relative size, I believe their identities shall remain one of the mysteries of the Sierras.

Mark has unabashedly agreed to pose on this lovely tree foot for us...and he helped me figure out what the circumference of such a tree would be using pi (3.14) x the diameter = 63.8 feet.

This was the second time I have seen the grove. We stopped but briefly and then it was time to wind on up another several thousand feet to our destination. I'll hope to post some more photos taken over the next three days and a bit about the Courtright area. In the meantime, you can see the post and pictures from last year's visit here.

I hope you have enjoyed reading a bit about the history of this place. I wondered last year how the granite sloped lovely creek called "Dinkey" got it's name and writing up this post tonight I found two different stories. While the two versions differ, they both agree that Dinkey was a dog. In one recounting Dinkey the dog was out with four hunters who got into a fight with a bear and Dinkey was injured near the creek.

In several archives I found that Frank Dusy had a summer residence at Dinkey creek and one story says he named the creek after his dog. A bear story is also associated with him. Follow the link on his name up above if you would like to know more of that story.

It must have been quite an adventure discovering and exploring this terrain in those days. Even powering up a paved road in a comfortable car I certainly was in awe.

A Peek behind the Garden Gate

2011-09-09T22:58:00.000-07:00

If you have been reading either of my blogs for any length of time you have seen quite a few glimpses of where I live...but even if I shared all the images sequentially, with much explanation, it wouldn't do justice to this dynamic environs.

Yes, that tiny sign says ~Beware of the Dog~

and it is true...and the gate does not open unless you know the magic numbers...

As I live and work in a place that is not mine, I try to be, nay I have been, very sensitive as to what I photograph and share. And yet the family that does own the place is really all about sharing; so because my readers are so kind, I will invite you in a bit. After all, I only have a few readers and a very nice group you are. The attempts that are often made to publish advertisements in my comments section probably come from "bots," as automatic phishing mail senders are sometimes called, and bots don't stick around to enjoy the posts. So I will assume that I can at least walk my gentle readers through the garden gate.

I say the garden gate because the front gate leads directly into a garden. There are no vehicles behind the walls of the property, unless you count the one just inside the garage that Miss Phoebe was sitting on in my last post. Otherwise, one must walk in and carry whatever you might need in with you. But you won't need a thing; just remember that you can usually click on my photos if you want to view them larger and then use your back button to return to the post.

It isn't just about where I live about which I am careful, but that is a story for another day, let's just go enjoy the garden for a moment.

Good, you are in, please shut the gate behind you.

Inside the garden wall..

I imagine that the little wooden window is where the milkman use to leave fresh milk in glass bottles on the stone shelf. Perhaps packages were once popped through the door too. Or maybe a neighbor could have left a present or returned a borrowed pot. This little door is fixed now and remains closed, otherwise it would constantly be framing the face of some curious person or other...

The old Australian Tea Trees, Leptospermum laevigatum, are wonderful...they each have a mind of their own and that and the bidding of the sun and wind and water is what they each follow winding their way through the garden and along the paths.

The garage has a window onto the front path and Mark has narrow work bench in front of the window...it is where he built his guitar.

Here he is making an abalone rosette.

It's been another busy day...and I've not shared as many photos as I intended..but I'll hope to post more soon. A young passion flower vine I planted in a favorite yellow pot my father gave me years ago has made it's first two blossoms...

I think they close up at night...I know I must... say goodnight.

Leading Lady - A Special Hood Ornament

2011-09-03T13:35:00.000-07:00

"Don't you think I look better than this little chrome woman?"

"Who is she anyway...this little goddess of speed? Is she fast enough to catch a mouse? "

"You want me to get down? I'll just pad down carefully now, okay. That must be why you usually have it covered. But it was fun for a moment. So how did I look up there? "

August...Two nights, Two very different Sunsets

2011-08-03T12:41:00.000-07:00

The first day of August was very sunny and warm here in Carmel and the sunset happened quickly with a deep afterglow. A sliver of moon appeared and then it too slipped below our horizon.

Crescent Moon and Sunset Together August 1st

The second day of August was cool and gray again....and when the sun set...

   it was all silver beauty.

Something is Better than Nothing

2011-07-30T22:35:00.000-07:00

That's what an old proverb says, or maybe the version "Half a loaf is better than no bread" is more fitting for Bread on the Water....

There are times when to tell others what is up is to risk bringing them down and that has never been my desire here...sharing on-line. If one is personally involved and has an organic and real connection, then to share the more difficult realities in life is essential....but when the connection is isolated to one realm or another, then...the entire story need not be shared.

That's what I am thinking...and so it has made me mighty quiet of late in the generically sharable realm.
I plunk out these vague references in an attempt to reintroduce myself to this venue of communicating, and sharing that which is, though not terribly interesting, at least not overwhelming or opportunist. Though it is probably true, what the old proverb says, "A trouble shared is a trouble halved.", some troubles even in half sizes are too sad.

One of the things I have been deeply aware of lately is how much misinformation is spun into stories that make the news. When you know the facts, know the people and then read the variations that prevail and are passed on from one news service to the next...and even when corrections are made, it is often the earlier erroneous versions that are next linked or quoted....well it makes you wonder about a lot of the other stories you have read and how accurate they are.

And beyond the personal, the spectrum of troubles out in the world is ....well...full spectrum. I suppose there is some formula that can be conceived that divvies up the proximity of the sorrows versus the weightiness. The closer to home the sorrows, the more they weigh, and yet, distance in this world doesn't give us much immunity given the gravity of happenings.

I am grateful just to have written a little here...I feel indelicate, inarticulate, like a unlettered woman asked to acknowledged that she has indeed witnessed some transaction and is required to make the only mark she knows.

Yes, even just writing these few words... something is better than nothing...I feel like I have had a sip of cool water and my parched voiceless throat squeaks out a raspy "thank you."

...Carmel, California Sunshine Day...Too Pretty not to Share...

2011-07-03T23:12:00.000-07:00

Sunday afternoon we wandered

on the south end of the place...

Here are a few of the day's pictures.

Never start nasturtiums where you don't mind them taking over.

Originally from South America, these plants trail their round leaves and bright orange and yellow flowers and dangle down the rocky cliffs to the beach. Their name is a derivative of Old English from Latin of nose (naris) and to twist ( torquere).

After clearing nasturtiums off the stairs

we walked down to the narrow cove.

Down at the south end the clear skies gave a good view of Bird Rock.

Sun and shadows on the path

These pale purple asters are native and thrive way out beyond where we garden.

This lone little flower has poppy like leaves. The wind or a bird must have brought it. It opened it's bloom yesterday right outside my front door.

A big hello to my friends and family...wish we could spend the 4th of July Independence Day holiday together but where ever you are I hope you can and will celebrate that "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

With love,
Jeannette

Destination East of Eden

2011-06-20T20:19:00.000-07:00

She made it to the railway station...

had a ticket for her destination...

( shades of Simon and Garfunkel )

This picture is actually on the other end of the railroad line where we were awaiting her arrival. She boarded a train early in the morning in San Diego which took her to Santa Barbara where the northbound passengers were transferred to a bus for the rest of the ride; and the bus was late. Now we were sitting in the railway station until we started poking around the old Southern Pacific yard .

If you have ever eaten salad in the USA from greens you didn't grow yourself, chances are you have eaten lettuce from Salinas, California reputed to grow about 80% of the lettuce in the United States.

Salinas, named for its many salty marshes, is a valley famous not only for lettuce and other produce grown year round, but for one of it sons, author John Steinbeck, who was born in Salinas in 1902. Steinbeck wrote many novels, including the famous The Grapes of Wrath and my personal favorite of his, a saga of the forces of good and evil, East of Eden, set in the Salinas valley. Steinbeck's character, Adam Trask, is depicted as being one of the first to ship lettuce wrapped in paper and iced, across the country.

Being at the railroad station made me think of scenes in that book. It is definitely a book I've been willing to read more than once and maybe it is time to give it another spin...or maybe at least rent the James Dean movie again. If you haven't read the book, read the book first...as good as the movie is the book is a whole other experience.

The sun was out, as you can see and I took a picture

of this tree

and of this tree too, the California Pepper Tree that we had parked under.

It was after five pm on Sunday afternoon and the place was pretty quiet but

apparently I too was being photographed as I wandered around snapping shots of

historic luggage

and flowers in the garden of the two preserved historic houses neighboring the station,

and a "ride control."

and finally in my view finder...

there was who we were waiting for! Way worth the wait and just in time for Father's Day.

Power Ties: You know the news has been too weird

2011-06-16T22:00:00.000-07:00

when you think it is relaxing to clean out your sewing drawers and wind up feeling that you still didn't get away from it all...

Sharing a Sunny Low Tide Otter Kind of Morning

2011-06-06T22:42:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy time at the house, spring brings so many outdoor clean up projects and the alternating days of rain and sun make for lots of weeds. This Monday morning, after a weekend of rain, the sun was out, the tide was low, the water still and there were otters in the cove.

In the center of the kelp bed lay a mother otter

and her nursing pup.

Further out in the cove several otter were diving for breakfast.

The kelp itself was a lovely sight.

Here is my very zoomed in close up.... I'll try to tuck my camera in a pocket and try again soon to share the glimpses I get of my western neighbors and their dynamic abode.

Garlands of Flowers and the Sacred Charges of Memorial Day

2011-05-29T12:23:00.000-07:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“..gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with choicest flowers of springtime...let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us as sacred charges upon the nation’s gratitude, the soldier’s and sailor’s widow and orphan.” -General John Logan, General Order No 11, 5 May 1868

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday early afternoon in the sun out front of the cottage at Searock, Mark is learning a Tommy Emmanuel song on his guitar called “Half Way Home.” The flowers I’ve tended here make me feel half way home myself. When we were in town earlier it was very busy, busy enough to remind us how good it is to just sit still.

It's “Memorial Day Weekend,” and for many it is a three day chance to travel and party. Perhaps those for whom the day was originally set aside to honor, those who served our country and sacrificed their very lives, would understand the nation’s search for freedom, joy and adventure when three days without work or school are joined together.

This sun is more than the meteorologist predicted for today but the sky is not all blue; the horizon is milky layers of gray and cream white and the waters of the Pacific are shimmering with light and shadows. We have another Saturday errand to do, but as this sun is but a passing hour we'll wait until the rain is closer.

I’m encircled with flowers. There are small low blooms, tall fragrant iris, the columbine- each orange petal distinct in shape and curl- and white roses open and clustered so thickly I almost can’t see them as single flowers. There are peach and golden rose buds and lavender, squat and purple blue in its prime. One lone poppy gleams in front of the velvet violet salvia that the hummingbirds are so drawn to.

I am reminded of times I've bought little red poppies from veterans to commemorate this day. Anymore it seems as if this weekend is generally treated as simply a herald of the coming summer and with all the harsh weather the country has endured, such a herald is a welcome call. I've had my own heralds of late. Yesterday a silver jumping of light alerted me to a school of dolphins moving north, and I’ve lost count of the pelicans who’ve returned and made my heart leap.

Earlier this morning, I watched a woodpecker, quite well dressed with snowy white bib, handsome dark wings and red cap, drink and bathe in the deeper of the two bird baths. As soon as I moved behind my window in stealthy attempt to get my camera, he flew.

I look up from the page where I am scribbling these thoughts and see the blooming maple blossoms bobbing with the breath of the waters below.

The redwoods are tipped with the tender green of new growth and the limbs hang long and layered like a skirt over strong brown legs. Lobelia and Santa Barbara Daisies push their way out of the beds and tangle in the amongst the ferns and foxgloves. Many are the heralds of the new season.

The sounds of traffic on the coastal route, heavier due to the three day weekend, remind us again that Monday is Memorial Day. We both try to remember when Memorial Day was changed to a three day Federal Holiday? Is it Memorial day that was originally called Decoration Day? Neither of us were confident that we knew or rightly remembered the origin and history of the holiday. I went inside to my computer to research the history and meaning of this day set aside. I found this page on ways to observe Memorial Day and on the banner was this quote :

“..gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with choicest flowers of springtime...let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us as sacred charges upon the nation’s gratitude, the soldier’s and sailor’s widow and orphan.” -General John Logan, General Order No 11, 5 May 1868

I stepped back outside to tell Mark what I had learned. We had already planned to fly the flag, but I didn't know it was protocol to fly it at half mast until noon on Memorial Day. I also learned about the origin of the red poppies I had remembered buying from disabled veterans.

It's been a sweet Saturday reprieve. The rain has held off. The air is warm and wafts with many mingled scents; peppermint and lavender, the big bay laurel leaves I pluck to flavor sauces and soups, and there's the cypress and roses, iris and salt breeze too. The air is good. The earth is waking from her slumber and those that may are are eager to venture out.

I pray safe journeys for Memorial weekend travelers and hope that we as people do continue to commemorate the dead who have served not only with the choicest flowers of spring but by keeping all our sacred charges...and may those who sacrificed be much more than half way home....

~~~~~

May Garden Notes

2011-05-20T21:13:00.000-07:00

The day started with two of my helpers discussing who should do what first.

My theory on weather lately has been very scientific. That is to say, I have a theory and in repeated experiments I prove that if I dress for chill mornings, it makes the sun come out with penetrating rays that drive me in for shorter sleeves and sock-less shoes and when I re-emerge, the air has cooled, the sun hidden itself, the sky has darkened and I soon want my layers back. But rain and fickle sun and all, look what has ripened in the garden.

And look at some of the bloomings.... a Julia Child rose bud

the tall Matilija Poppies genus: ROMNEYA, species: coulteri.

I have never seen a California Poppy I didn't like...

This rose is called Double Delight and has a wonderful fragrance.

And speaking of pretty flowers and pictures, I got a two cool postcards this week....one from a friend ( whose nearby presence I miss) visiting her childhood home on the Isle of Wight and one from my dentist reminding me to come in for a cleaning....my dental reminder was so pretty I left it sitting out on my desk all week. I wish the card had a location name or a map on the back; it would be a lovely place to walk among what looks to be at least knee high, perhaps hip high wild flowers.

Hope you have a chance to get out of doors this week.

Seal Pups and Poppies at Point Lobos State Reserve

2011-04-28T20:10:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday afternoon a very kind friend reminded me that all work and no play makes for a dull Jeannette and she took me to the neighborhood state reserve to walk and spy upon the springtime bird and bee energy of nature.

I was snap happy with my camera and it was such a pretty day lots of my pictures came out plenty pretty. The distant curve of land is Pebble Beach and Carmel. Beds of kelp float near the shore.

Momma seals and their pups are taking a little afternoon snooze on the protected beach. It is important that visitors stay back from the areas where the seals rest and sun, so this photo was taken with zoom aplenty.

The poppies ( Eschscholtzia californica) smell spicey to beetles which, once attracted, help pollinate the poppies. Did I learn this by sticking my nose down in the blooms? No, I was checking on the spelling of "Eschscholtzia" and learned about the fragrance and the dutiful beetles.

Even from a distance the golden blossoms glow.

We have a lovely state flower, and the state metal is gold...but do you know what our official state mollusk is?

Do I have a picture of one? Hmmm...some recent children visiting saw several in our forest and they said regarding the official native... "gross!" Apparently the abalone competed for the title, but the state mollusk title belongs to the land loving frequently visible banana slug. Here is a short movie on youtube starring two children and three banana slugs...it isn't my movie, but the children remind me of two little girls I used to know, and it is charming whereas I don't know where the photos are of the banana slugs that have posed for me. Slugs are actually a good subject for new nature photographers; it's not like trying to capture the image of a hummingbird. At top speed a mature slug can travel 6.5 inches in a minute. It gives you time to compose your picture and focus without rushing.

The other thing I learned, ( I know you are just longing to know all about them, aren't you? )

is that slugs like to eat mushrooms. They are an important part of spreading nutrients and spores around the forest floor. Now that you know they are official and functional maybe you will treat them with more respect than a "blick" or a "gross" next time you see one. Or maybe not; visceral responses are pretty hard wired.

So...pictures and silly words tonight... but as I walked in these pretty places with my kind friend, I thought especially

of people I would love to walk there with...

like Beth...and Sarah Beth and Rosannah...to name just a few,
so this blog is for you.

Love,
Jeannette

Passion Friday

2011-04-22T15:32:00.000-07:00

What Do you Mean, What Do I Mean?

2011-04-10T11:14:00.000-07:00

The other day I left a comment on Katie's Nature ID blog and she asked me what I meant when I wrote that although I didn't capture a good photograph of the beautiful red hummingbird in our garden that I had taken "a heart picture."

I didn't mean to be vague, but I know I am sometimes. To answer Katie, again in her comment section, I began a series of incomplete sentences about quality of focus and attention ( about which she must know much, as she not only enjoys and photographs nature, she patiently identifies various species and trails after even the taxonomic changes that come down the channels) and then I remembered that I had written about this experience, this sense of taking a picture in my heart, ~~although I hadn't used that near cloying sweet phrase~~. It is a brief post, first written in my journal in 2007 and then posted on my web log in 2009.
The Camera Within. I hope you'll take a moment and read it...I do believe what it says about our world and its people.

And, yes, I will try to be more clear about what I mean, even when I leave little comments in other's boxes...clarity is something the world needs and so I should endeavor to do my part. Thanks Katie, for asking.
~~~~~

Precious in the Light

2011-04-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, in the afternoon, the light was so stunning I took my camera out and snapped away at almost everything that delighted me. I did, I took seventy-six pictures. In part it was possible because a friend had come over to make dinner for us. With fresh strawberries, cilantro, feta cheese and young green onions as a pre-walk appetizer...and knowing dinner was merrily cooking away, we wandered down to the rocks on the water.

There are many jokes with groanings in them about people sharing their home movies. What brought that to mind? I won't show you all seventy-six. I haven't decided which ones I will post...but here I go wandering into the visual archive of yesterday.

This was my first peek at an artichoke on its way.

And although I was taking a macro photo of this Julia Child rosebud, a little green bug was getting a much closer view.

Kitty Bumpkins knew about the artichoke already before I did, I am sure.

Back to the archives...but not before popping out the front door to take a sunset picture. " What will you do with all those pictures of the sunset?" I've been asked. What do we do with all the sunsets? Stop and feel, marvel and thank, praise and reflect and tonight, hurry back in because it isn't quite as warm as the day we had yesterday.

The Pride of Madeira was buzzing with bees and hummingbirds again. My attempts to capture the birds did not result in any good photos, but trying was good watching.

~spiraling umbels of color~

dizzy with close up close up beauty...

I look up

and down below my feet...

every direction is ....well...remarkable

I want to say something about the foot inside this boot...and it's mate too...these feet have trod many miles, stood and walked by me and for me. Not my feet..."his" feet. I love these feet.

~our contemplative artist chef ~

remarkable.... remark as you will!

Do you remember the sound of home movies? My father had a little snippet of film where I, four years old or so and naughty, turned the garden hose toward him. He liked to show that bit of film backwards.

Oh, just a few more pictures...there is one of the light coming through the trees...maybe I can find that one without too much delay and then I will do whatever else I am supposed to be doing....and hope you will be glad that you stayed to the end of the movie.

Gideon wants to be in the picture show too...

And one more close up to end ...the wild iris have been lovely this week. They are one of those delicate realities, so true to life....appreciate them when you see them...you can't take them for granted. Their time is short, they bloom and they wither and their season passes quickly.

~that's all~ and yes, dinner was lovely too.

They speak for themselves...

2011-04-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

The flowers...the bees. the butterflies, the hummingbirds

the evergreens, the rocky cliffs

the fragile wings

the crashing waves, the vapor skies,

the shining sun

the golden poppies...they all speak for themselves and their Creator.

Need a Title for my Car Journey ~ Pictures, Songs, Flowers, Beans & What Have You

2011-03-23T18:16:00.000-07:00

I sat here for a moment with the cursor in the title box as if I would know what to call this account of our trip to San Diego before I write it or choose which photos I might ~~subject you to~~ share with you.

The photos I took range from a few taken with a steady hand with feet on terra firma to those that resulted from quickly thrusting the camera lens out the window of the speeding car ( the passenger window, silly) into the moment's weather and hoping that my artistic pressing of the button would yield some little glimpse and some small sense of what it can be like to drive from central to southernmost California.

I suppose I might also share some thoughts and feelings encountered while traveling and they might give me a clue to the title, but they always cover the gamut. Don't worry, I don't usually spill all my beans here, so you are likely to be pretty safe.

~Speaking of beans, these are Christmas Lima Beans that I bought at the Farmer's Market in San Diego. I have several gardener's in mind who might want to try growing a few of these heritage seeds...they are all women gardeners, so the stories of colossal success will have to be filed under " Jill and the beanstalk..." with no offence to Jack intended.~

But see I am getting way ahead of myself, because I have not yet escorted you even out to the car let alone down the road and already you are seeing a zip locked bag of beans and probably asking yourself, "Who goes to San Diego to buy beans? And Lima beans at that?"

The fact that I even bought them amazes me because I was traumatized by Limas as a youth. Expected to eat whatever was put on my plate....blick...and then there was the time I was told to feed the baby brother who explosively expressed his displeasure with the dollop of smashed Lima beans I had dutifully spooned into his eager little mouth. His aim was quite good.
But the farm lady told me even she eats these beans, and that they are quite delicious. Probably what I was served as a child had been canned or frozen or overcooked. Besides, I was a brat. Obviously these beans overcame my prejudice with their unique beauty and the charm of their various names. They are also known as Speckled Butter Beans. My father taught me that one could know if they liked butter by having a buttercup flower held under one's chin. Every time he performed this procedure, he saw the glowing color on my tilted up chin and pronounced that I was indeed, a lover of butter.

I didn't photograph any California buttercups on this journey, but yellow is the color of my state's first spring flowers. Oh that makes me think of a song I used to love to sing..."yellow is the color of my True Love's hair, in the morning, when we rise...." Oh dear, dated by Donovan. No, I don't mean that I dated him just that ...anyway, the best line was the song's last lyric...and maybe you remember how pretty Joan Baez sang it.

"Freedom is a word I rarely use
Without thinking, oh yeah,
Without thinking, hm-m
Of the time
Of the time
When I've been loved."

Phew, I feel better now...I freed myself to uses ellipses. Okay, I will put them back in their box for a while, but they are so handy when you are in a mood, wanting to type and figure out what it is you are feeling but not necessarily wanting to subject everyone to all of it, maybe even yourself and so instead a few run-on sentences and a generous helping of ellipses and...you feel better. There has to be some way to recover from that much driving?

I mean we had to drive through L.A.
Anyone familiar with the terrain will note that I am getting this trip all turned around, because clearly we are heading north...so I will ~~start~~ try again.

Okay, we started out on a very wet Friday much later than we had thought we might. If you want to cross from the coastal route 1 over to highway 101 via highway 68 toward Salinas, don't leave home at 4:14 in the afternoon. After escaping the parking lot feel of the commute to the east, we turned on River Road and made our way south in the pounding rain not sure how far we might get before we found a motel with a welcoming enough sign that we'd know we should stop. Instead, we were invited in by old friends and we slept in a bear room, no not a bare room, a bear room. If anyone ever should have been hired by a museum to create period feelings and dioramas of themes, it's my dear friend S**ie. Her bedroom is a memorial to a grand African safari she and her husband enjoyed. Hold your breath, S**ie, can I post that picture? Let me go look...maybe with a little cropping...blurring...hmm.

It's a shame to blur such a lovely woman, but I do it out of respect. If you have a problem with this photo, please contact the blog mistress, she would love to hear from you anyway.

On Saturday morning I had the presence of mind to take this picture that shows what a little rain can do.

"Green is the color of ...." in the morning when we drove.

A road trip, is often thought of ( by some, Mark, by some. Just remember our conversation about being normal, and whether or not we are) as a good way to relax and not think about some of the big things going on over which one has little to no impact, or maybe you can relax and think of ways one could have some small positive impact...but of course traveling has its reminders too...

San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant

Japan isn't making all the headlines anymore, they have to share the space with tyrants who misuse resources such as human life and all manner of power. I don't remember exactly what went through my mind, but I popped open the car window and took this picture too...

Oh, so now, dear reader are you too getting tired of being on the road? I'll speed along then. I mentioned the work of a road trip, of course it was worth it because we were going to visit a very dear family member. We arrived safely late afternoon in Normal Heights. Seriously, we went to a neighborhood in San Diego called Normal Heights. San Diego has gullies and heights and we went to the "normal" one...right where we belong? We were well cared for by our dear hostess daughter and hopefully well tolerated by her housemates.

Now when I was regaling you with tales of buttercups and such I meant to show you some of the yellow flowers that were subject to my picture snapping but I got carried away remembering the song "Colors."So without further ado we will now appreciate yellow flowers, and think of Freedom and times of Love and Hopes for the trembling world we live in. Okay by you?

At the Farmer's Market where our daughter likes to shop...a primrose variation caught my eye.

At a sprawling messy nursery called City Farm where you can find just about

anything in the plant need category we saw these sunny blooms that I might think about identifying but don't recall the name right off the top. They were growing on a wire fence which restrained some of the many chickens that inhabit the nursery.

And this is an out of order north traveling whirl- by photo of the wild yellow mustard that graced our sight along so much of trail.

A highlight of our visit was being driven by our daughter, who has gotten to know the surrounds fairly well, through sudden torrential rain. Here we were on the way to the beach and hopefully a climb up into Torrey Pines State Reserve. But why turn around? Our theme song, snatches sung by our driver, was from the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical "The Sound of Music. "

I have confidence in sunshine ~ I have confidence in rain ~ I have confidence that spring will come again ...

Armed with music, we decided if we had to just sit in the car and enjoy the storm when we got there, we would, but we were rewarded with a sudden clearing and, well, I'll just show you a few pictures.

These pelicans know the way to my house and they never take the 101, or the 5 or the 408 or the what ever those other road numbers were.

Birds above, wonderful stone gems below. Each one is so beautiful I want them all and that is why I left them all on the beach.

Under the clouds, with birds in the clouds and rain in the clouds, hats on our heads and extra jackets from the beach box in the back of the car, we decided to walk up the hill to see the

Torrey Pines.

Weather...it changes rapidly some days.

There's a museum at the top,

where you can be pet by the wildlife.

The state reserve is lovely, if you're ever nearby, don't miss it.

We had to come home a day early and we made the drive in one long haul and we are grateful for the safe journey, the sweet hospitality and some time of rest today. As I sit here at my desk, the rain has been temporarily swept away and the sun is shining through my window. The wind is blowing and I can hear it, but I am warm and content to reflect on the little trip we took. Now what shall I call this blog post? You tell me. Oh wait a minute, I didn't get you back up the road, how about a few more point and shoot out the window shots to keep that road traveling feeling going?

Home is just on the western side of this range.

Here's the last picture I took and then we were home on the coast less than an hour later and it is so nice to have a brother who watches your two cats and dog while you are gone and makes dinner for you when you return.

~~~~

Thinking of Japan and her people

2011-03-11T19:05:00.000-08:00

As the sun sets in California, across the waters of the Pacific,

it is noon day on the island of Japan...

words cannot express

~~~~

Just before Hitting the Wall...I wrote this:

2011-03-03T19:30:00.000-08:00

I recently realized that it has been a little over two years since I started sharing on Bread on the Water.
I'm not yet satisfied with how it is all organized ( or that it isn't) in terms of easy access, though the invitations to look at some other earlier posts tagged on at the end of current posts may help some. But reorganizing the categories some is on my "to do list." Back in those archives there are some good lumps of dough and I am not sure how likely a new visitor would be to ever find them.

This week there just hasn't been much sit down time....

at least not until I am too tired to contemplate writing much at any depth...like now... I am surprised that I have even managed this much; it certainly wouldn't be a good time to try and revamp things. As far as energy goes, I know I am likely to "hit the wall" soon. There are a few more things I should do tonight and then there is a whole lot more I could do to make a nearing deadline more comfortable, I just don't have much more do in me for tonight. Maybe some time I will feel free to share a little bit more about the variety of work I engage in. How is that for a way to make one's work sound interesting?

The thoughts I have been exploring lately have to do with boundaries,

identity and purpose... but they are still covered in a bowl in a warm spot to get the yeast rising.

In the meantime, I hope you will read my first entry on this blog from January 2009 found here: Non- Zero Compliance , and then another short piece written in February of 2009 that talks, in part, about how I chose the name of this blog: Bread, Money, Energy . And wander around, whenever and where ever you like of course...

I thank those of you who do stop by and read and if you take the time and go through the process of leaving a comment, you are doubly thanked. Maybe I should go see if I can undo any make a comment hoops? Am I getting a second wind? Or just fooling myself? Oh no, now it's time to pick labels for this posts...hm mm...can't get away from this organizational categorizing stuff, can I?

My desk a few years ago...

My desk the other night... but it is all cleaned off right now...well almost.

Oh, and then there is the title...blog posts need titles...

Yep, that's it, now I am hitting the wall for sure.

After the Rain

2011-02-18T20:37:00.000-08:00

I ventured out in a break from the heavy rains and winds we had today.

The water from the hills above us gets channeled down this stone lined gully that opens wider as it drops toward the sea.

Near sunset the clouds parted briefly then rumbled together in greater darkness.

Capturing colors in rain or shine...a large abalone shell

The low today was only 41 degrees...nothing to winter toughies...but I suppose it is all what you are use to...and when the trees are dripping on me and the wind blows...

it is cold enough to send me back inside, and my little cat too.

A Rose Is a Rose is a Rose...

2011-02-14T21:23:00.000-08:00

Consider yourself gifted...

~~~

Out on a Limb

2011-02-09T22:52:00.000-08:00

Sometimes people you love get themselves out on a limb...

I mean that figuratively of course. But in the case of my kitty, who is the photographic model for today's musings on the feelings that can freeze a person in a dilemma thought by thought, limb by limb...

my kitty is literally up a tree.

I know would be rescuers shouldn't really grab their camera, but I couldn't resist.

Maybe this gives a little more perspective...?

Yes, she really is up there and it is steeper than she might have realized when she first clambered up and she must have had some good momentum going to get as high as she did...and now she realizes that coming back down is a different issue and that she has quite a long ways to fall.

But what would the fall really mean? Facts help a lot. Not panicking goes a long way too...and staying in the moment, and breathing. These are the kinds of things I tell myself when I'm in trouble. I need to remind myself of these basics and they help me to experience that there is sufficient grace for today...but if you try to remind someone else, even if they know it's true...it sounds so pat. After all, you are down on the ground and they are, in that moment, well, out on a limb.

And there are so many awkward feelings, little voices that can distract right when you need all your facilities and focus. There really is no shame in needing help, in asking for help...anyone of us might have to at anytime...that's how life is.

Yes, she got down...I barely was able to help her at all...although I like to think that when I leaned on the trunk and stretched my arms up as high as I could, it gave her just enough sense of love and support to apply all her kitty prowess as she skittered back down to the forest floor.

~~~

A Great Blue Heron at the Shopping Center

2011-02-07T09:34:00.000-08:00

Some days are filled with lots of tasks that are just what they are...simple things that need to be done and that is that. Having done a task that was pleasant to be finished with...we realized we should stop at the grocery for a few items needed at home.

The Del Monte Shopping Center has a little berth of trees around it that includes a runoff creek, which is probably what dictated the need for preserving this little urban buffer zone. Four lanes of traffic and freeway exit lie just the other side of this tiny oasis. As we neared the mall entrance we saw this lovely heron in the narrow strip of undeveloped land.

I have to learn how to size pictures for blogger on my new system, but the bird is just to the left of the tree and that is a main thoroughfare through the city of Monterey just behind it.

Even though I approached slowly, kept a respectful distance and used the trees to make my presence less intrusive, the Great Blue Heron was very aware of me.

"Ardea Herodias" is 50" I suspect this is a fairly young female.

"Shh...you'll scare away the mice and gophers I am after."

I've read in Stokes Field Guide to Birds that individual birds may claim temporary feeding territories up to several yards in diameter which they will defend.

Watching the bird walk in grace as it hunted for a meal

was like a dip in a cool pool, a song, starlight, a prayer...

the ordinary is extraordinary, it just needs to be received.

"I am just a bird...out for lunch...nothing to see here...don't you have any people business to attend to?"

Well, I did have other things to attend to, of course, but I went on my way with a lighter step, much refreshed by just one little creature filled up full with being just who it supposed to be.

~~~

Learning New Things

2011-02-04T11:20:00.000-08:00

Please take "things" in the most literal sense. I have a new thing on my desk which I am fondly referring to as a BIG MAC. NO, it is not edible, I don't ever eat at McD's....but I have switched from a PC, personal computer, with windows operating system and all that to an IMac and I am in a bit of a learning curve!
You can't imagine the fun that I am planning...and I hardly can either. But, one step at a time I am figuring things out.

I am not tilting at windmills, I am not....

Beacons on Saturday Walk

2011-01-22T23:04:00.000-08:00

In Monterey at one of the downtown historic state parks, Cooper Molero,

the barn and the sky prompted me to pull out a camera.

Later in Pacific Grove....

January sunshine lit the distant sails of a small boat .

Since February 1, 1855, the Point Pinos Lighthouse has flashed its beacon nightly to guide ships off the rocky coasts.

Birds are often beacons of light for me.

I know there are observable differences between Great Egrets and Snowy Egrets. As I watched this bird today, I even knew what the differences were, but wasn't sure I was remembering which of the distinctions went to which bird. So I checked when I got home and made this little chart to re-remind myself once again.

Feature Great Egrets Snowy Egrets

Color White White

Size: 39" 24"

Bill Yellow Bill Black Bill

Legs & Feet Black Legs & Feet Black legs bright yellow feet

To complicate matters, when Little Blue Herons are immature they are also white with black bills but they have yellow facial skin at the base of their bills and their legs are black in the front and yellow in the back... Seriously, confusions are easy to come by, I am not making this up.

I don't need to know "who" the bird is for my heart to leap, but the beauty of creation does deserve to be appreciated in all its details. And it seems good to me and for me to pay attention and to exercise and double check my ability to retain and retrieve information details.

Sometimes rocks proclaim their distinctiveness too...

Black feet, yellow bill...big bird: it's a Great Egret Ardea Alba

Even at a distance...this smooth round stone stands out.

The waves washed in and it would disappear...and as each wave subsided

I saw it again and marveled anew.

The Hills Above Mal Paso

2011-01-12T02:19:00.000-08:00

There must be a story why the road is named Mal Paso. Perhaps some dark and dreary things took place to early travelers or settlers...

Or perhaps it was named by someone struggling with the steep ascent up from the ocean...

Or maybe it is very literal, after all the road does not go all the way through to the east...Maybe it should be called No Paso...but it was just the walk I needed...to be startled by beautiful flowers ...

I had not seen these bloom before ...I thought someone had perhaps had a can of spray paint...but no

this is now they grow and bloom...undoubtedly in the giant aloe family.

And these fungi, at least eight inches across, they also caught my eye. It was comforting to see them popping out of the earth, just as they should be when conditions are right.
To walk, to hear birds, to watch the clouds, to stop and listen to the mushrooms and the pine needles...
to feel the pace of earth time, is healing.

Senseless acts, vicious, cruel acts, take place in our beautiful world....Whether you and I are thinking of the same senseless acts
doesn't matter...there are more than enough to go around. Even on the extreme periphery we become a witness...and it can stun us...and rob in reverberating circles ...but perhaps we should lean into the good and beautiful all the further...

Yes....let me show you the lovely little mountains from one more angle...

New Year's Day On the Rocks

2011-01-02T11:45:00.000-08:00

I opened the door on New Year's Day and saw a rainbow across the waters. I called to Mark and he grabbed his camera and captured the colors. I was content to have seen the pale colors shimmering in the morning air. I never feel like my pictures do justice to what is before me...but then they remind me, and I hope you too, of the glory that is if we stop long enough to see.

I did take some pictures walking about after a late breakfast.

looking out through the walls of the southern cove

I'm always happy to spot an otter. Sometimes there are weeks when I don't see any, but lately they've been visiting the southern cove. December 30th we had turbulent waves and I watched two otters diving for dinner. New Year's Day, at low tide, the cove was calm and before I saw a tell -tale shape in the waters, I heard a crack, crack crack, echoing across the cove and then saw an otter cracking open a shell on his chest as he lay on his back. After lunch I think he took a nap which they also do on their backs.

Add to this pretty view the sounds of birds and water and wind and the smells of trees and salt and earth.

The colors of blue, the scattering of light..waves of light...the shorter waves of light...

That is ocean water straight below me in a very narrow inlet cove. I was only able to see this color from this angle. The color stopped me short on the steep cliff. I'm glad my snapshot captured what I could see.

The northern cove...

point and shoot untouched photograph...colors of the day

As I took this picture my camera battery light began blinking... but I myself felt all recharged.

I hope you feel recharged in the New Year and that we may each do our part in making the most of 2011.

Rather than make any new resolutions... I am reminded of the daily need to rein myself in, and steady my aim on unchanging requirements.

~seek justice, love mercy, walk humbly~

from Micah 6:8

"He has shown you , O man,

what is good.

And what does the Lord

require of you?

To act justly and to love

mercy

and to walk humbly with your God."

HAPPY NEW YEAR

The Madonna and Child by Sebastiano Conca ( 1676-1764)

2011-01-01T10:18:00.000-08:00

Away in a Manager

2010-12-23T22:30:00.000-08:00

Away in a Manager

The little wooly sheep in this nativity scene belonged to my husband's great grandfather. Joseph and Mary and the baby Jesus belonged to his grandmother. One year we made the little A frame and other animals wandered into the collection. I remember little hands that use to often rearrange the crowd of adoring animals. I enjoyed unwrapping these but wondered where I could place them. I decided if they were on the wooden tray I could scoop them all up at once when room is needed for a guest. Tonight they were like another plate on the table...and for me it was a feast for eye and heart.

Christmas, it's not all sleigh bells in the snow...

2010-12-18T21:11:00.000-08:00

While I was doodling on the Paint Program on my computer tonight, this otter decorated with starfish

floated up to help me wish my readers a joyous time of Christmas preparation.

And various thoughts floated up too...the last weekend before the 25th is often a time of pressure for many people, last minute shopping in the crowds and bad traffic in harsh weather raises the pulse of many....makes it hard to stay focused on what is really important, on the people we love and want to bless. How to remember not to fuss about details if it is going to cause more tension than joy?

I saw a few televised clips of Americans in the military who are serving abroad, away from their families and our homeland this holiday season. While their families will miss them and they will miss holiday sharing, gifts and decorations, food and parties, hopefully they won't miss out on being remembered, appreciated, and prayed for. And I thought too of those who have died in service this last year...Christmas is for you too.

~~~

Music, Music Music....

2010-12-11T15:36:00.000-08:00

In the morning:

It's a Saturday morning. Does thinking it, saying it, writing it, deepen the impression, the preciousness of it?

Does documenting that there is morning light on the wings of a white bird over the waters of the Pacific, that the horizon has a low quilted band of gray soft clouds and the waters that have already melted in the morning's sun are floating up into the short blue waves of a promising sky....does that deepen the impression for me? It is Saturday. Yes.

Our first practice....

We are practicing music much lately. It is hard to describe the mix of music...a group of people centered around an oud player... lots of original compositions from the oudist and the guitarist...
The violin player studies Egyptian style. I am playing my flute. A lovely keyboardist came to practice the other night...I hope she will come back. We are in preparation for a December 15th event...more on that later.
The Afternoon:
I have soup in the crock pot and we ate broccoli for lunch...trying to eat like grown ups once in a while to not let too many of the Christmas sweets that keep appearing here and there take control of us.

We practiced at home this morn but will leave soon. At home, we had some of our music taped to the hearth. The black-eyed-Susan is blooming along the stairs to the laundry room. I picked a bouquet of that today and hung some cedar boughs with red ribbon. Pretty heavy level of decorating...huh? But imagine how the two kitties would enjoy swatting anything new in the room. All ornaments would be considered for their amusement. Trees surround us outside and they are hung with cones and birds and lichen knit right there in their limbs.

Time to go! Happy Saturday afternoon and evening to you.

Always Expose for the Shadows of the Subject

2010-12-04T15:20:00.000-08:00

"Always expose for the shadows of the subject..." so says my 1948 focal guide retrieved from storage a few weeks ago. Somehow the advice suggests other connotations....the realms of metaphor... " always expose for the shadow of the subject."

The other day it was the Walter T. Foster painting book, Seapower that got me thinking this way.
I had looked at the 10" x 14" teaching book with absolutely no intentions of trying to paint the ocean or the cliffs I live above and yet I

enjoyed perusing the step by step paintings and the tips and clues to doing the same.

"If you continually think in large masses of light and shadow ..." "Always think and paint the large masses first..." "...pick out the lighting...then you will know exactly where you are going."

So if you know where the light emanates from, you will know where you are going; that makes more than sense to me.

Later in the day, out and about on the land,  I found the painting advice impacting how I saw the ocean waves, the light on the rocks, the blue of the sky. Lessons for painters are first and foremost, lessons for the eye.

Writers must see carefully too and one's eye must be attuned to many realms. It's good to be able to see one's own framework of understanding, to filter the light from the dark. Every heart frames reality in its own terms, its own limits. To have an impact it needn't be large, but there must be an intersection with other frames of reality other than one's own.

I look at the sea. Clouds are stretched like peach tinged taffy along the horizon. Light is scattered across the waters so white and shimmering in areas that the eye can barely absorb the beauty without reflexively looking away.   I can change my visual perspective and for a moment the waters in front of me appear like a bowl, but I know the horizon is distance beyond my scope.

There's a boat out there carrying its own reality across the waters, but to me it is little more than a dark speck. We are often in each other's view, but seeing eye to eye, well the eyes and the heart can take a lot training.

Such are the topics that have been on my mind lately. You might enjoy the essay I wrote this week and posted on Write Purpose "Why We do the Things We Do "

Now that I have read my old focal guide, I want to see if I can translate it to my digital camera.   My notes to my self need to say.."Always be aware of your tendency to just point and shoot on automatic..."   and of course that too has metaphorical implications; I'm not just talking about taking pictures.

~~~~~~~~~

Thanksgiving Day Walk and Black Friday Reduce, Reuse, Recycle fun

2010-11-26T12:44:00.000-08:00

A walk in the sun by the water on Thursday afternoon...

Today the frenzy of stalking the stores' "big sales" begins for some. I decided it was a good day to recycle all the merchandise catalogs accruing, I don't think I ever asked for any of them. It felt great. I had looked at a few of them, briefly beguiled by the bright glossy pictures and so many things not needed and if I could afford them I should be sending more money to orphans some where in the world. Some photos are so pretty I think of cutting them for collages, but who has that time?

I recently entered the storage unit where things from our home of many years are stored while we live in a small cabin by the sea where we work. It isn't that I have bought much over the years, but I am sentimental about things from those I have known and loved. I am thinking that for some things that have no real value, I mean I don't use Grandma's broken honey pot, maybe I will photograph and save the picture? After all it is the woman I treasured...not her things. Still, things are imbued with memory...I am not saying we shouldn't have some keepsakes...but I am sure I could pick a few for each dear person and release the rest. Part of the problem is that I am the trusted- to -keep- things person in my family....but....okay...will skip that subject for now.

I brought a few books and some cards and correspondance back with me from storage. I have some wonderful California History books and found one I have never read. If The Story of Inyo , a 1933 history by W. A. Chalfant about the area of California, south of Bishop and east of Mount Whitney, is not compelling enough for me to read or use for research I won't keep it any longer, but how will I know if I don't set it next to my bed or desk? I saw there were boxes of goods that got packed to save when I did not have the time or the mind to look closely enough to see if they truly needed saving. There are things that I brought with me when I did move that I still haven't sorted so I will go after a few of those things today.

Use It

Give it Away

Recycle It

And it seems like a great day to muster some creative energy for finishing a project or two. And I have little a collection of fun things to pop into the mail to some little girls that do have time to play.

So I hope to release things not needed to increase time and energy for what is important....

You've surely heard that phrase that we are to use things and love people... it is a terrible thing to get that reversed...

Anyway, the sun is out again today and we had a fine walk yesterday and so here are a few pictures to share with you...loveable person.

Night Life in Carmel

2010-11-16T09:24:00.000-08:00

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night and wonder if you turned off the.....well, whatever it is that you turned on prior to retiring?

In my case it was a dehumidifier I had set in a closet in the main house. I suppose the middle of the night is a subjective measurement. I am talking three in the morning which might not be every one's middle, but it was feeling very middle to me. Once awakened by my dereliction of duty, a retinue of ancillary thoughts qued right up to dance, brightly lit, across the movie screen in the otherwise dark theatre of my now sleepless brain. First I reasoned that there was no real need to get up and stop the machine. It has plenty of capacity, it could winnow and hold several gallons of water; but I had a harder time convincing myself it was wise to leave it running. I imagined touching the electric cord and then the plug and thought of warmth, then heat, then fire. All very unlikely, but surely I should get up and trot on through the garden and the night, make my way to the lonely dehumidifier and shut it down. I was resolved, this was the right course of action, but before I put my feet to the floor, my gallant man awoke and volunteered his services. I, of course, accepted and even volunteered to go with him, but he said there was no need for us both to get up.

He returned from the task, cheerful and full of praise for the glory of the last hours of the night. The sky was clear, stars visible, the air soft with warmth from the previous day of unseasonable heat. Then the phone rang. Our daughter was to catch an early morning flight to come to see us, but she had been woken with a call that her flight was canceled due to fog. San Diego faces the same ocean we do; true it is a little further south, but fog enough to ground the plane? After various communications back and forth and calls to the airlines, it was determined that the flight was reinstated and we, lured by the warm coastal air, decided to abandon our bed, dress and wander out into the very early morning. After all, our girl was already up and being ferried to the airport by a kind friend, we might as well get ourselves in sync with her.

We thought we'd walk a little but the talk kept returning to where we could find a very early breakfast. We drove past the 24 hour Safeway and headed into the sleeping village by the sea. As soon as we parked on Ocean Avenue we knew the cock had not yet crowed in Carmel.

Fantasies of bakers who rise before dawn and create delectables worthy of every extra calorie that the pastry envelopes, coffee wafting hot and fresh cream chilled to keep the goodness captured...these were the ideas that had really driven us out into the morning. And then we spotted, out in the dark, the real walkers. There was a serious woman in a reflective tape vest, her arms pumping as energetically as her legs. Another denizen of the streets appeared ardently talking on her speaker phone as she powered down the middle of the empty traffic lane. On the path above the beach we saw a small group of walkers with a cadre of dogs in graduated sizes each connected to their mistress by imaginary leashes. The shopkeepers may sleep in but the lean and fit were already on task.

We walked a little, I think, but perhaps it only qualified as strolling. Two women strode past us, "Look, they are walking lots faster than we are," I said by way of friendly greeting.

"You need to get your hands out of your pockets," I heard in response.

Of course it was my camera I had in there...we sauntered over to one of the bakeries...the window display didn't help our state of mind any. But we knew that in the long run, we'd grab a few things at the store and

go home and make our own breakfast.

While at the grocery our cell phone rang. It was our daughter calling to let us know that she had been dropped off at the airport only to learn that the flight had once again been canceled due to fog...

We tried to stay sunny about this...no use getting upset about these things, as long as she is safe.

And so we returned home and ground and pressed our own beans, and toasted our favorite no flour bread.

And while my gallant husband went back to bed I let kitties in and out the door and quieted the dog and downloaded these pictures of beaded birds and sugary treats and electric flowers in the shops of the little town that won't wake up for hours. Next flight arriving sometime before nine this evening....a nap may be in order.

Or wait, is it too late to just go back to bed?

Wednesday morning P. S.

~Last night was a safe and happy landing~

Now tonight we await word of our first daughter's return from her two month artistic work visit to Austria.

After the First Rain a Gardener's Fancy Turns to Seed

2010-11-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

I probably have a better picture of the flowers I got from sprinkling a package of flower seeds in a little oval bed on a west facing hillside but the flowers are gone now...and it's time to plant more seeds.

I cut the drying plants and sat and made a big bag of mixed seeds.

These are godetia.

And I remembered a little can of red poppy seeds I gathered this summer.

And then I dug out the old packets of things I used partially and bags, jars and tins of seeds I've gathered here and there...

but that didn't stop me from getting some new seed packets too...

So here's hoping they germinate happily in the few spots of sun I can give them

and that there will be more flowers ablooming next year...

Who Weeds the Ocean?

2010-10-22T10:38:00.000-07:00

Who weeds the ocean? We have a friend who grew up in the deserts of Jordan. One day, sitting together above a cove filled with floating kelp and seaweed, he asked if anyone ever cleans up the cove waters. It makes me smile to think of his question and yet...someone does...last week on the sands in Carmel, the autumn currents had tugged up the roots of the weeds of the sea and, once loosed, the tendrils of the deep were beached.

Friday October 10 was a cloudy calm day...just ask these birds.

or this child...

~on the cusp~

~cross currents~

~carpe diem~

~~~

The Butterfly Circus ...so happy I saw this short film...you can too.

2010-10-11T21:20:00.000-07:00

It is easy to miss opportunities and we just barely became aware in time of a free filming of a series of short movies in the Carmel Art & Film Festival...
What a fun way to see new films...on a bluff of sand on the Carmel beach just after sunset.

This is the blow up screen set up on the beach at this point only partially inflated...

and this is the view to the west...

One of the films, The Butterfly Circus, received the Clint Eastwood Filmmakers Award. That is a link to part one (10 minutes on you tube)...and here is the link to part two, but once on you tube you should see the part two link there as well.

Be prepared for a very fine message...it is a lovely little film starring Nick Vujicic, a man who is sometimes described as having no hands, no legs and no worries...

I hope you enjoy it!
~~~~~~~~~~~

Sierra Mountain Cabin Visit

2010-09-28T17:02:00.000-07:00

I have been living at sea level for four years. Well maybe a few feet up, because we live on a granite cliff, not a beach...but still not too high up.

*Note to Grandma Beth: Click the photos to enlarge them, then use your back arrow to return to the blog.

This last week a lovely woman kidnapped me and took me to the mountains for a few September days. I have beautiful pictures, or perhaps I should say I took pictures of beautiful places. My photos are but a faint reminder of the beauty in it's fullness, but come along and I'll share what I can. Here's the area where we headed...a cabin in Courtright Village near the southern tip of this map. This picture I took of the sign at the Le Conte Divide...but I better not get ahead of myself.

Leaving the Monterey Peninsula , the central coast of California, we crossed through the hills that lie between coast highway 1 and the inland 101 and then headed east through the mission town of San Juan Bautista past the golden grasses, brown soil and green crops of California's central valley. The Pacific Ocean now behind us, the air grew hot and hazy. In the air conditioned car I had a sack of raw almonds to munch and cold bottled water. We passed almond and fig tree groves and dusty vineyards, as well as many field crops and always there were people, working in the fields.

I was delighted in catching up with my friend ( I just found out she linked to this blog, so I've added a link to her blog at the end...no longer anon she is Gretchen) and watched mile by mile the environs change. At the town of Madera where you can access highway 41 to Yosemite we turned to Highway 168.

This neighborhood of redwoods, sunflowers, and grasses is in downtown Shaver Lake in the Sierra National Forest, elevation 5500 ft. It's the town of last supplies.

We already had everything, and then some, that we needed for our four nights,

so we didn't stop in town.

We kept heading up the tree lined roads ...

past little roadside rocks...

~And stopped to look back toward the valley from whence we'd come~

One day we checked out Dinky Creek. I am not kidding, that is its name.

" Bark," I have read, is not a technical term.

~ what small part of this tree I pictured ~

The foot of a large tree in the McKinley Grove where the biggest Giant Sequoia currently measures 20.3 feet in diameter.

As we made our way up the road the moon rose in the sky.

~young trees on the edge of the road scramble down roots for a spot~

A wonderful tree that made me read trees books in the night. While I do know the basic distinctions...
some of the trees I met reminded me that is all I know.

I did remember that the cones of a true Fir Tree are always upright.

Rocks of immense dimensions roll and slide and slam their way to where they come to rest, the angle of repose. So many of the rocks on the uphill side of the road demonstrate this law of physics, but other laws could as easily be on display if given variables change.

Angle of Repose is the title of a Wallace Stegner novel that takes place in California terrain. The term lends itself to much metaphor.

After considering many possibilities

We decided that the species of small coned pines are Lodgepole.

      This is the southern end of Courtright Reservoir but we aren't quite yet where we are going. I took this picture the second or third day of our visit...that first afternoon we had to keep moving but already snatches of the American poet Longfellow's "Song of Hiawatha", which he wrote in 1855's and that I memorized in part in 7th grade, had been triggered in my memory:

                                      Dark behind it rose the forest,
                                      Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
                                      Rose the firs with cones upon them;
                                    Bright before it beat the water,

Beat the clear and sunny water,

During our visit we had clear sunny days and

beautiful clouds too.

This is subalpine country...we were at about 8200 feet elevation.

Just before nightfall we got to the cabin...we turned on the water, started warming up things up and made our beds. No fancy cooking the first night. We didn't exactly have to rough it....this is my room as I left it the last morning.

The first morning in Courtright this is the view I woke to and what one can see from the deck.
It's a real fine place to be.

Of course as soon as I got home to the cool coast

I had to take a picture of the last light of that day on the sweet blue sea. It too, is a real fine place to be.

I took lots more pictures in the mountains...153 to be exact...but I'm not going to show you all of them. But just imagine... rocks and trees and water and sky and trees and rocks ....there's lots of them "up there"and I am glad for that, and glad for a friend that shared her family's special place with me.

Gretchen took pictures too and here's one I took of her.

~~~

The Morning Blue and Sunset Too...Pacific Ocean Carmel Beauty

2010-09-19T19:13:00.000-07:00

                                     A real Saturday... I had my feet up and was reading on the terrace...but light on the water and the myriad changes that I saw each time I looked up distracted me. I was delighted to realize I had actually stuffed my little camera into the pocket of my jeans. This first shot was from my perch...but after that I lay down my book
and played with my camera.

  The crows needed photographing. It actually is hard to read when they start scolding, they can be very demanding and persistent, especially when they arrive in droves. However, these two seemed to be taking Saturday off too.

But now that I was on my feet the light on rocks and tree and water seemed a better read. Though I must say, I am enjoying the novel I've started by Tobias Wolff, Old School.

Water-Rocks-Tree? Rocks, Water, Tree?

Here is : Tree Water Rocks

Cypress frame the view...

The cloud cover moved in suddenly and the morning sun was suddenly just a memory.

But in the afternoon the clouds had passed by and burned off and just two little puffs remained as the sun set.

It really was a lovely day. Hope you've had a fine weekend too.

~~~

Exercise for the Mind...Reading and Writing despite all the distractions.

2010-09-11T15:49:00.000-07:00

The longing to communicate, to bring the top of the hill view down to the valley and the quiet of the night into mid day, to capture the beauty of a face ever changing is evident in all man’s art and many of his technologies. But if we always, as a people, had the photographic devices we now have, perhaps the gift of verbal description would not have developed as potently in mankind’s abilities.

I suspect part of what got me thinking about this topic is that I have just started reading David Denby's Great Books where he describes his journey, at age 48, of returning to Colombia, going back to school to become a reader again. He read various journals and news but he wrote that he had no concentration for real reading. " My rhythmn had changed. I was a moviegoer, a magazine reader, a CNN- watcher. " ( p.36)

Words take using.

Reading, decoding dense pages that are unrelenting visually, except for the variation of small shapes that chisel out sounds and mound up meaning takes concentration but can yield place, person, happening, history, continuum, or even, that most proximate and yet distant terrain, an internal landscape.

Inner landscapes have no camera but the picture that emerges from the work we lay our hands to, the daily arts of living and the music, the canvases, the literature and the love we are able to make of our lives.

I am a believer in story. I hope the art of reading does not pass away.
~~~~~~~~~~
Today I posted a piece, with pictures, no less, on my write purpose blog. I still am not sure why I have two blogs, it's not that I believe in compartmentalizing. I think of "Bread on the Water" as the more playful and visual of the two spaces and so I decided to publish the California history, early personal memory, tribute to 9-11-2001 essay there today. These thoughts which I had written this morning would be right at home on "Write Purpose, but here they are...questionable fun, no picture, just a little jam for the bread.

Often I write in my journal (my ink on paper journal) and think of sharing some of it here on line, but that means typing it up and then the editorial eye, the more critical eye emerges, the eye that opens up after the first draft ink has dried and the first draft out- pouring has cooled. Lava is hot stuff, but when it cools, lava rock is often quite light and porous, you know, full of holes. That's okay, I guess, holes are good for peeking through. Reading and writing is a joy and it is also work...I thank you for sharing any of it with me.

Traditions shared: Blackberry Pie Summers and Macedonian Spanakopita

2010-09-02T21:00:00.000-07:00

September's arrival threw me into a mini panic, summer weather hasn't quite arrived yet, so summer can't be over. But it is September and Labor Day is coming. Yikes, fall and winter must be lined up right behind that coastal fog bank that has blanketed us so consistently. I knew I had to beat back these concerns so I set out to gather blackberries to make a pie. Blackberries were the wild free fruit of my childhood summers in Mill Valley and then later a big part of our children's summer day's in Sebastopol. It's family tradition to pick and eat almost just as many berries fresh off the bush as we'd bring home for jam and pie. As one of our girl's often said, "I don't really need a bucket, I have my own little bucket right here..." and she'd pop a big purple-blue-black-juicy- berry still warm from the sun into her mouth.

As there are no blackberries ripening in my current neighborhood I set out for the farmer's market. You've heard that scarcity and demand can control price? The organic berry farmer from warmer than Carmel Watsonville was charging more this week than he had all summer for the same amount of blackberries because, he explained, these were the last of the crop, he didn't have any more berries to sell.

I paid the price, reminding myself that he had not only grown and tended them, he had picked them and boxed them and driven them to market and he would pay tax on the sale and tax on the land and what, after all was $30 for all that work? Yes, I was seeing just how serious I was about having some semblance of summer as I have always thought of it... and that includes a blackberry pie.

However, before I could get things any further along than mixing in sugar and lemon juice and corn starch to thicken the berries ( and take the picture above), our friend Blagojce arrived with sacks of groceries. He had been promising to make spanakopita like they do "back home" in Macedonia. Of course for such an offer I was willing to get out of the way. As the berries need to sit a bit in their thickening sweetening state.... and as we have a one derriere kitchen in the cottage, I took refuge behind my camera.

Before I knew what hit me...there was butter melting

Leeks were sauteed

and spinach and chard had been cooked...apples had been cut...and simmered

I mean things were cooking...or I should say men were cooking...

Layers of filo dough are brushed with butter and then feta and cooked spinach an chard and arranged...

rolling it up

When Mark's assistance wasn't required...we had live music

curled up like a snail...

These are oven- ready having been basted with butter and sprinkled with sesame seeds....

One batch baked receiving more butter and another ready to go in the oven...some are leek, some are greens and feta and some are apple...

they all were good.

And now there was room and time for me to mix up my dough and roll out the crust for my pie...before dinner was served.

Oh, and corn on the cob was steamed...that's pretty summertime, isn't it?

By the time we had our Macedonian spanakopita, eaten with big bowls of yogurt, the pie was cooling.

How about pie for breakfast? Now that sounds like summertime.

No men were injured in the making of this dinner.

~~~