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
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.
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?
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
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. "
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.
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?
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