A Peek behind the Garden Gate

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

"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

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

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...

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

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

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...