One of those days!

                                                              Late afternoon light

 the sunshine beams in horizontally

                                   -  wind, sun and mysterious inclinations bend the trees -
                                             

out on the rock, a cormorant watches too

                                                              stone

                                                         and wooden rounds

                                                 
                                                    to help us climb up

                                                      and down

                                                               
                                                     sun shines on the garden shed
                                                           

                                           
                                                  soon the sea will lapse in dark light
      

                                                       but  sun still shines

                                                        up on the deck

                               and even down below it reaches up through the ravine
                                                  in the last hours before sunset.

Gophers Ate my Indian Blanket

One of the more common and older reasons for keeping a diary or a log is to remember things that one might otherwise forget.

In my little patch of wild flowers I was happy to see some bright specimens blooming that must have been in one of the seed gatherings I had strewn.  My husband asked me their name and I watched my mind in amazement as it attempted to sort through the half remembered, inelegantly pronounced names of some of  the seed packet descriptions. "Oh you know it is something like,  ah, well it sounds like some girl's name, Rude Becky."

But Rudbecki is a cone flower, as is Echinacea purpurea, and although these flowers seemed similar, I knew I had known (however briefly) another name for these.  It seemed to me that my friend Gretchen had taught me a name.  So many keys, but which little mental door to unlock?

Well, sadly, before I followed through on my intention to learn their proper name,  the gophers found them to be quite tasty and ate off all the roots. Mark bore the fallen plant into the house to show me its demise and I  still didn't  know its name.  

 This is a Blanket Flower

As remembering things is often best accomplished through making  multiple associations,  I set out to learn enough about it that I might remember what to call it if I am fortunate enough to have any future encounters.



Maybe I won't remember the formal name: Gaillardia ( named after a Frenchman who was a patron of botany) but  I would like to remember that it is a genus from the sunflower family.

What may help me most is thinking of  Lewis and Clark finding these lance like bright petals on their trek through Montana and being reminded of brightly colored blankets made by native American tribes, hence the common name of "Blanket Flowers."

I hope some of the seeds are mature enough to grow. When they dry I'll  scatter them around with hope of future blooms.  They do remind me of cone flowers, I bet they are cousins.

The Sun Sets in the West

First Responders on Waves and Wings

Today a coast guard boat and helicopter swung round in circles for quite a while and it wasn't clear what they were up to...training or search and rescue, but it sure made me think of all they stand ready to do.  Through the binoculars I could see the colors flying.

 Yes, that little sky blur is whirring wings...gives me a lot of respect for people that have adjusted their shutter speeds and bought lenses too big for me to hold up to zoom in and all... but the sight and noise got me down to the other end of the garden and

the tree stood still for me

and so did Phoebe in the window.

                                 

But not the day...it did not sit still for a minute and now the sun has set...

What Color Does it Look Like to You?

Colors, colors, colors....there are so many to enjoy.  I had to move my little rack of potted plants while the deck is being rebuilt and I may have found a spot for it I like just as well or better than where it use to be. My yellow pots caught my eye and it all begged to be photographed. Sometimes I see things and think I will come back and take a picture later, but then the wind  blows or the flowers pass.  So I grabbed my camera for this shot and then took it with me on my trip to the vegetable garden. I didn't get far before I took another photo.  Under the redwoods I pass a potted rose that sits in a little slice of light and it looks very red and lovely to me...

 It's just starting to rain and I have time only to pick a few strawberries and some kale.  On my way back to the cottage, I pick one of the red roses and discover that next to the red strawberries  

                     the roses  aren't really all as red as I usually see them to be...

Thinking about gradations of color and the glory of being able to see them, I  started reading a little bit about what is often called being "colorblind" but  is more accurately called color vision deficiencies.

 Excerpted from What is Colorblindness and the Different Types  

 People with normal cones and light sensitive pigment (trichromasy) are able to see all the different colors and subtle mixtures of them by using cones sensitive to one of three wavelength of light - red, green, and blue. A mild color deficiency is present when one or more of the three cones light sensitive pigments are not quite right and their peak sensitivity is  shifted (anomalous trichromasy -  includes protanomaly and deuteranomaly).  A more severe color deficiency is present when one or more of the cones light sensitive pigments is really wrong (dichromasy - includes protanopia and deuteranopia).
5% to 8% (depending on the study you quote) of the men and 0.5% of the women of the world are born colorblind. That's as high as one out of twelve men and one out of two hundred women. 

  And here is a link to a free on-line test.  Parents and teachers might find this website especially helpful as undiscovered vision deficiences can cause multiple difficulties for children .  

                                            The deck....the REDwood deck is coming along. Of course weather and time will turn this bright wood to some shade of gray like the old fence it abuts.

Well, I better go wash my kale and ponder its silvery blue green hues into some edible form.

'til next time then...
Jeannette

Post script:  If you read the early afternoon version of this post, it hadn't been edited for typos and "thinkos" by the man who finished the deck...while I was making kale chips...Next time I can wash the veggies outside, well if it isn't raining.

She Was Looking for Someone to Finish It

A small handwritten sign caught my eye as I wound my car down a narrow pine lined street above the ocean.

Turning away from my direction home as if I had known where I was going all along I began to follow a trail of paper arrows toward a small driveway garage sale. I looked over at the commitment I'd already been privileged to make that day to a fresh salmon filet and some lovely fruits and vegetables, it all deserved speedy delivery to my refrigerator.  Now I am of two minds.   I remind myself that I shouldn't be so easily distracted but  then remember  sales where  I have found wonderful treasures like the old guitar. So I could at least peek from the car.

As I drew alongside the humble offerings that edged right up to the road, I saw a tired but soft face, a woman probably about my age. Standing amidst the belongings she'd drug out into a spot of sun in front of a small cottage, she met my eyes directly, brushed her wire blonde curls away from her face and smiled. Just junk or not, now I had to stop.

As soon as I was out of the car I'd confirmed that if the seller hadn't seen me, a drive by scan would have sufficed. There was nothing unusual being offered. I said hello before I halfheartedly peered into a cardboard box of worn paperbacks. "Are you cleaning up or moving? "  I asked.

"Moving, moving on I guess you'd  say. The rent is going up again and I don't know, my daughter says she'll never come back to Carmel."

"You moving closer to your daughter?"

"Oh no, she's in L.A.  She don't like Carmel and I don't like L.A.   I've been here nine years and  I guess I'm just ready for something else.  What're you looking for?"

"Oh, I never know, but it is fun to stop and look and meet people.  I've only worked here six years but we don't have any neighbors on the cliff where we live and work so it's nice to meet folks."

I wonder  if I'm going to get lonely traveling," she said.

"Traveling where?"

"Don't know, really, just aim for places I haven't seen for a long time. Maybe I'll catch up with myself somewhere along the way."  That smile of hers showed up again.  I nodded and she kept talking. " I use to move alot, before I landed here. I got a few more things to put out, let me show you something."

She came out with a patched quilt top in her hands and draped it over a table stacked with dishes." I want twenty dollars for this.  I never did finish, " she said, "and it's got a few spots now and maybe a hole or two, but I can tell you where I got every piece of the fabric.  See, this fabric here is from when I was in Colorado.  I liked Boulder, lots of creative people  there,  especially in the winter time.  And this  here

was a dress my little girl wore and this vintage cloth was from a store three old ladies ran up north, it's from the thirties. This flower print I bought on a vacation in Hawaii.  You ever been to Hawaii?"

"No, can't say that I have.  Are you sure you want to sell this?  You could finish it, even traveling you could take it along and finish it by hand."

"My daughter doesn't want it.  It's not her style.  I do kind of hate to get rid of it, but I'm getting rid of everything else, I might as well. "

I didn't know what to say.  I wasn't sure it was my style either, but in it's haphazard wonky way it did kind of hang together and it was kind of growing on me.   And then there was the woman.  I didn't want her piece by piece memory love project to suffer any more rejection.

She looked at me and said, " I just get the feeling that this might  stand a chance of getting finished if I get it to the right person."

I had a twenty dollar bill in the ashtray of my car.

            Here it is lain out to baste the cotton batting and back on to it.
                                                                  Whimsy abounds...

                                                     
                                                     And I am quilting it by machine.



 I hope that momma at least swings by L.A.  or maybe her girl will come find her...in the meantime I'll finish up this funny old quilt top...I'm not sure who it is for...but quilts do have a way of continuing stories on their own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Sky's the Limit