Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Photos And Words On A Wednesday

Roger looked out the sliding door to the yard and said, "There are so many feathers falling from the sky, you've got to see this." We walked outside and the yard had feathers everywhere. There were other doves on the wires behind the house and none seemed alarmed. We have no idea how or why feathers tumbled from the sky to us. These came to rest at the top of our summer peas.
 The swallows decided on Tuesday that they should start building a nest right next to our front door. We told them "no," and deterred them by hanging things that we knew they wouldn't like. This is the look we got. We said, "Sorry, we understand it's a great spot, but no nest here by the door, thank you."
The house next door to us has been vacant for five (or more) years. The rainy winter and spring brought forth a new burgeoning ecosystem that the birds, butterflies, and critters all seem to enjoy. I have dreams of the blackberry vines going up over the roof. It really could happen!

Monday, June 19, 2017

A Minus Tide On A Sunny Day

It has been a rather dreary time here on the north coast. Many many days of relentless fog, or what the weather service calls "overcast." It casts a gray dismal shroud over everything, blocking the sun for days at a time. Sometimes I wonder just how powerful that almighty sun really is. I think, "C'mon, it's just a bunch of watery bleak droplets between me and you, how can you not shine through this stuff?" But that's the way it goes here. So when the sun does shine its unbelievably bright rays of warmth and light, we are ready to head out for a walk. There was a nice little minus tide that coincided with a sunny morning the other day, so we said, yippeee let's go to Trinidad. We've walked the minus tide beach there many times, and it's always wonderful. When we arrived this time, it was WINDY. A serious wind blowing in, so we decided to hike up Trinidad Head to see how the view was from up there. Here's a photo of Trinidad Head I took last January from a beach about a mile or so south.
Here's what it looks like while hiking up the trail on Trinidad, looking north.You can see the beach where we would have been walking if it had been a calm day.
When we got to the top we had a wonderful expansive view. It wasn't windy, and it was beautiful in every way. Roger heard sea lions barking, and there was a halo around the sun. A truly splendid moment.
Then, we headed down around the other side toward the harbor. The light was perfect on the water that day.
We decided to walk down to the harbor and out on the wharf to see if there were any river otters hanging around. We saw them there a few years ago and were hoping to see them again. But they weren't around. We did get to see the wonderful pattern left in the sand by the retreating tide.
We love being reminded just how awesomely beautiful our planet is. Here is just one small spot on earth on one blue-sky day.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Almost Wordless Wednesday: Do Doves Exercise?

It was early in the morning, and I was waiting for the kettle to boil for tea. I looked out the window and saw this dove. Photos through a window are never the best...but placed together they answer the question.

Yes they do, and then they take a little nap!

Monday, June 12, 2017

The Eighth Day


When I first moved out of my parent's house and hit the road in the early 1970s, I called them every Saturday morning from wherever I was. Back then I had to find a phone booth and gather a whole lot of coins to make that happen, or I would call them collect. There was no way a Saturday passed without a conversation. My dad always answered the telephone on those Saturday calls. Then, I would talk to my mother. It became a ritual, and I made those Saturday morning calls for more than 20 years. Then, when my father was diagnosed with primary liver cancer, I started calling them everyday. After he passed away in 1992, I continued to call my mother daily. That lasted until she sold her home in 2012 and moved to her first assisted living facility. Then, I started calling her twice a day, once at 9:00 am and once at 4:00 pm. It was our ritual that we adhered for the past five years, until the vascular dementia and Alzheimer's. As I type this I have not spoken to my mother in eight days. I have left messages for her everyday on her answering machine, which I know she won't listen to. When she tries to get her messages, she almost always inadvertently turns the machine off.

It's the longest I have ever gone in my life without talking to her.

Eight days.

My sister visits with my mom regularly and reports to us how she is doing, but it's just not the same. I would like to hear her voice, even if it makes no sense when we talk. In fact if I remember correctly one of the last times we talked she wanted to talk to the "other Robin." Oh right, the other Robin, the one without gray hair who used to call on Saturdays as she traveled across the country and Canada. Yeah, as my mother also says, "the fake Robin."
My mom went to a memorial for her sister-in-law last weekend. She got to see her brother and niece and nephew. It was lovely for her to reconnect with them. Yeah, she didn't make perfect sense when she talked, but the love was there.
So, while I wait to hear her voice, I've been out walking, photographing clouds, and trying to forget the world, and embrace our beautiful planet instead.

Wednesday, June 07, 2017

Almost Wordless Wednesday: Do I See A Frog?



Why yes, yes I do!

Monday, June 05, 2017

These Times We're Living In

We've been out taking walks to divert our attention from the unfolding nightmare that is our country at the moment. There are simply no words to describe our utter shock and dismay about the times we are living in.

So, here's what we've been looking at. Ah, we always say thank you to the earth for providing us with this awesome beauty.

This is Arcata Bay at a low-ish tide. Not even the lowest tide of the day. The algae is definitely in full bloom here. The colors are so vivid against that blue blue sky.
The tidal channel flowing back out to the ocean.
A wonderful illusion of a bay in the distance. This reminded us so much of Monterey Bay, but it is all only sky and cloud beyond the green pastures.

When I think about the times we are living in, I am always reminded of this song by Kate Wolf. She sings, "We've only got these times we're living in..." At the moment, that's a bit of a bummer.