Sometimes I get obsessed with certain things I want to paint. Palm trees always fascinate me. I wonder why they evolved in the first place. To a midwest gal, palm trees are always going to be strange and mysterious and weird even though they have been part of my daily life since I was in my early teens. I expect anyone raised in a desert without any hardwood trees probably feels the same about oak trees.
Canon G7X Mark II, palm tree.
The wind is whipping through Ventura and Los Angeles counties. Fear of fire is there. Today I have to drive about 30 miles into the east winds.
This morning I went out to check on my patio to see what has blown over, as well as to see the sunrise as there are clouds scudding along the windy river.
And then back indoors – the wind is a bit chilly at 6:30 a.m. But, since I had my camera in hand, I decided to look around and take some snaps of my basil and the little squash I grew this summer.
Kitchen herbs are always welcome! When I come back from my jaunt into the wind, I vowed to water the ones still outdoors – these winds dry everything up and I have lost more than one plant to my laziness and dislike of 40 mph winds .
In a rather E. Weston style, my little squash. I have eaten the others and have decided to see how well it will age. By this I mean I read how people would store pumpkins and squash through the winter months, so this is my experiment to see what it is like – will it be dry and tasteless, dry and tasty, or what? Hard squash is one of my favorite things to eat, but before eating my prey I plan to photograph it some more.
And now, on to breakfast and more coffee. I decided to get this up and out before the electric company shuts off the power in the hopes of preventing fires. These winds whip them up once started, and I sure hope we don’t get any. No rain for months makes us the perfect tinder box.
Edge of the old year, edge of the new year. A point where something morphs into something else. A precipice.
Let 2025 begin!
Several weeks ago the fierce, hot east winds (aka Santanas, Santa Anas) came through and the neighborhood over the hill went up in flames with over 320 structures lost. Now we expect the same situation for the next few days – dry, windy, low humidity. I used to love the wind, but now I fear it.
For days we have had sunshine and no rain, few if any clouds in the sky. Day and night are clear with a gentle breeze. Last night, though, the fog came in. Not a pea-souper fog, but enough to leave water droplets on Inky’s fur after her evening walk, and chill enough this morning to feel the damp in my bones. I always like how fog and mist distort and blur the world around me, so last night I decided to take out the little Canon G7X camera to see what I could get.
We have a cinder block wall surrounding our house, and as we sit on a corner, we really have rather nice views up and down the streets in the neighborhood. The top of the wall is flat and stable, so I used it to hold the camera in place, focus in and out for composition, and then pushed down the exposure button and held it there to keep the camera steady. I got a few shots, but this one is my favorite.
Old age is not for sissies, so they say. I agree. Giving in to fear does not make for an enjoyable life. Falling and shattering my arm last year and smashing my heel bone in July have made me rather timid. It is very annoying. I have always had “sloppy joints” per the rogue orthopedist, and couple this with high arches and a tendency to supinate (turn my feet upwards on the inside), makes for high chances of a good tumble. And I have taken quite a few in my life time, but get back up and out. Now I do it with more conscientious feet movements after several rounds of occupational therapy and balancing instruction.
So, off to the local botanical garden to prowl along gravelly paths where stones easily skitter underfoot. (That reminds me I once had a cat I named Underfoot Ticklewhisker.) No dog, just me and a camera and a cell phone in my shoulder bag.
Come walk with me . . .
I keep thinking this may be a California Redwood, but I may be wrong. For some reason I really want to call it an ironwood, but, hell, I forgot to look at the tag! Nonetheless, it is a tree I always look at because of the deep red and shedding bark contrasted by bright green leaves. Today it was particularly delightful.
Not many flowers remain, and these California fuschias (again, “I think”!) were some of the few remaining flowers in bloom. Against the deep greens of rosemary, the pale green leaves and bright orange flowers are very attractive.
Oak trees fill the garden! Another perennial favorite of mine year round. There are a lot of them that I cannot help admire, and if I were a kid, I would be up in them, climbing as high as I dared.
At the far end of the garden is a path that leads around the hillside and down into the creek and woodlands. This is the beginning, but in my cautious state, I won’t do it alone. It is not a well traveled path and a fall could be very nasty. This also shows you how dry it gets here in SoCal in the fall before the rainy season begins.
One lovely part of the garden is the rare fruit orchard. Depending on where you live, these fruit trees could be common or rare. Here is a green sapote, in leaf and bearing fruit. It is a native to Mexico and is rather odd to my taste, but it is good. Also, there are signs to not pick the fruit, in part because of insecticide, but also to let others have a chance to enjoy the gardens. Locally there is a warning sign about invasive flies of some kind.
About here, I sat down. This is at the top of the hill and I was pretty pleased with my progress. A few stones underfoot, but I made it without a problem. Going downhill would be more precipitous, but I planned to return the same way I came up – the inclines are not steep and there are benches along the way.
Before descending, I had to get a view to the northeast, overlooking the city and into the mountains beyond. The sky was gorgeous with that deep autumnal blue as well as clouds – not a common site over our dry region!
And I made it to the bottom of the hill with rather irritated knees but not a fall at all. (Or perhaps, not an autumn at all?)
Ink, Yarn & Beer 