First Frost

The rain came day before yesterday. It was a good soaking rain that replenished the earth and gave us hope.
This morning the air is very cold... you feel it before you see it. The cold creeps under the bed covers and reminds me that the California Winter is almost here. The furnace comes on earlier... an extra blanket had been added... and the first glimpse of sunshine rises from the east.
The Prospector says, "There's frost on the pumpkin this morning."
I throw on my warmest coat over my PJ's, slip into some boots and take the camera out to find the beauty of our first frost... the subtle sparkle of mossy frost that edges leaves and freezes raindrops.
This is the first frost of the season and I hunt, in wonder, for its beauty.

It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it. ~John Burroughs, "Winter Sunshine"

A Valentine visit from our son

Our oldest son said he would come up for Valentine's Day. This is, at least, an overnight trip. It's a few hours from the Bay Area. He arrived on Saturday. The Corgi boys knew this ahead of time... because the sofa bed was opened and ready.
Carl loves it when someone comes. He thinks that we open the bed for him and he lets us know that it's his bed, by laying on it as soon as it's made up. He never challenges anyone with his possession of things...well, sometimes he does... but in a cute, loving Corgi way. He loves company... so when the bed is opened he knows that someone is coming. 
He and Cutter greeted our son at the gate like an old friend.

I love having our boys here. It seems I still have that maternal instinct inside of me, even now as they both move through their 40's. I guess you never stop seeing them through your childhood memories. They are grown men, but they are still our children. They are adults with lives of their own, but the feelings are still protective and loving, as if there is still a small child inside of them. I guess we all have a small child inside of us.
So "M" came to visit us for the weekend. We had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants on Saturday night. Great food and, because we are having summer early this year, the weather was beautiful. Didn't even need a coat at 7:00 p.m. This is California Winter at its best.

On Sunday we went for a short hike up to the ridge. It was so lovely... warm and sunny.
About halfway we saw a gang of turkey on the hill above the trail. As soon as they saw us most of them continued to move away, but two of them (young jakes) came straight down the hill to see us. Too funny. As if they were waiting for us, "Oh, look. It's Farmlady and she has someone else with her."

They were so friendly that I think if we had given them some food they would have come right up and taken it from us. Of course, when we didn't offer anything, they turned around and left.
We headed on up the hill and walked to the little, old house that is falling apart. Someone told us that he was born here. I tried to imagine being born here. It would have been a great distance from town and kind of lonely for his mother.

When we first moved here the house was standing upright. That was 16 years ago. Over the years it has withered into a pile of moss covered wood with few signs left that someone once lived here. A sink, a bed spring, some wire connectors, a rusty water tank and pieces of corrugated roofing. 

A window, without glass, that frames the old oaks...

and poison oak that is slowly devouring the small house. In Summer the poison oak has big, shiny leaves that almost shield the house from view.
There was a stove pipe laying on top of the roof, rusted and looking useless.
We discussed who might have lived there and what their lives would have been like. I tell "M" that when we first moved here and I found this house, there were Iris blooming close by. I dug them up and took them back to our house. I planted them in my new little garden ... dark blue flags. They still grow there.
We walked further and "M" noticed a caterpillar on the trail. We could have stepped on it.

Just a little thing... crawling across the open trail to who knows where.
I picked it up...

It was so pretty... but some day soon it will make a cocoon and create some magic.

I wondered what kind of butterfly this little caterpillar will be? I set it back down on a leaf and told it to move on into the bushes. It didn't move... so we continue walking, trying to remember to step lightly from now on and watch the ground for other arrant creatures looking for some sunshine.
I thought to myself that we should be careful and keep an eye out for snakes too. The weather was so warm and more like April or May out there.
We decided to take another trail down to the little creek. There is a mine here. Someone did a lot of work looking for gold in this area. Probably before World War II.

There is a creek that only has water in it during the winter.  There's a lot of bedrock in this creek and a concrete wall to hold a reservoir of water in one area.
Someone built stone retaining walls for reasons unknown. Houses, roads? channeling water? Who knows. It's a beautiful mystery.
"M" and I spend quite a while exploring the area. We found an old wheelbarrow, old pilings and a good size water tank. What stories this place could tell.
We even found more mushrooms...

Fairy like and delicate...

tiny yellow ones...

and some that look like they were eaten for lunch. Maybe the little caterpillar was there.

This one looked good enough to eat.

It was time to go home... walking back down the trail to the house,

 I remembered Mary Oliver's poem called ~How I go to the Woods.~

"Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”

This was a walk that I shared with my son and it was beautiful. It was a gift for me... and he knows that I love him very much.

Wishing for something amazing...

The new fig tree is loving this hot weather.

And if some critter doesn't eat the figs before they ripen, we should have a good crop this year. 

So far so good.

It's hot. The chickens are going around with their mouths open. This is when we need to be sure that there is plenty of water for them. The wild birds are sharing the birdbath and find shade during the hottest parts of the day in the trees and bushes nearby.
Carl caught a sparrow the other day.It was near the fence under some bushes. I think Carl was surprised to find that he had actually caught it. By the time I pried it from his mouth, it was dead. He was going to eat it. He was very unset that I took it away from him.

I had been trying to get some shots of our newest members of the community. We have a mother deer that comes to the watering container every evening. she has two babies that she is very protective of.
Usually, she comes down by herself and drinks... then at some point she lets the babies come down too.
But, the minute she sees me,  as if they have some sort of pre-arranged warning worked out between them, they disappear into the trees.
Mom always stands her ground and likes to give me "the look"...

As if to tell me that I need to keep my distance.
And then she slowly leaves too... 

And I get the tail end of her as she slowly walks away.

Well, a few days ago.... I went out to feed the chickens and close them up for the night. I looked down toward the driveway and there were the deer... all looking at me.
I returned to the house for my camera and when I came back outside, they were still there.
Miracle of miracles.
I finally got these photos of our cute, little spotted visitors.

They watched me... then they watched their mom.

Mom must have said something to them because, all of a sudden, they looked at each other.

One of them looked up the hill. The other kept staring at me.

Then one bolted up the hill and the other followed right behind
.

The response was orchestrated and without hesitation... and then they were gone.

But, I now have some images that I'm happy with.
They come back every evening to lean through fences and  reach into my garden. The pile of garden clippings has been rifled through by morning and the deer scat abounds.
Such beautiful creatures.  I wish I could touch them. Walk up to them and look into their eyes... to let them know that I'm OK, that they don't have to fear me.
But, it's a good thing that they are fearful. Death is always close. I hear it at night... when the coyotes kill something and howl their victories on some distant hill... and... there are all the other predators that own the hills from here to the river. I fear for these lovely creatures, especially at night. I'm reminded of a favorite Mary Oliver poem called

This morning I watched the deer
with beautiful lips touching the tips
of the cranberries, setting their hooves down
in the dampness carelessly, isn’t it after all
the carpet of their house, their home, whose roof
is the sky?

Why, then, was I suddenly miserable?

Well, then, this is nothing much.
This is just the heaviness of the body watching the swallows
gliding just under that roof.

This is the wish that the deer would not lift their heads
and leap away, leaving me there alone.
This is to wish to touch their faces, their brown wrists-
to sing some sparkling poem into
the folds of their ears,

then walk with them,
over the hills
and over the hills

and into the impossible trees.

( From Mary Oliver's book, Why I Wake Early.)

Sister Visit

Sis was here for a few days. On Sunday we were dying of unseasonal heat.
She arrived, bringing all kinds of goodies from Trader Joe's and looking for a little relaxation on the mountain top.
We ate dinner, talked, watched Masterpiece Theater... and she just relaxed on the couch, with a dog on each side of her.
In the morning she fixed me some of her unbelievable oatmeal for breakfast.
This sister of mine can really fixed a dish of oatmeal.

She makes the oats with milk. Then she adds cut up apples and dried cranberries while it's cooking.  She tops it with a small amount of brown sugar and pecans, that she buys at Trader Joe's. They are pecans that are baked with honey and sugar. I'm guessing that you could do this with regular pecans but these are already sweetened and packaged this way. Sis breaks them up on top of the oatmeal and OH!  Is it good. You only need a little milk because the fruit and nuts makes it all moist, sweet and delicious without adding a lot of milk or sugar. She even sprinkled some of the brown sugar on the plate, to make it look beautiful enough to take a picture of (which I did) and similar to what you pay big bucks for in the restaurants. It's called "plate-ing" on the Food Network. It was a truly beautiful serving of oatmeal.
So, we ate in the living room... with the dogs... and then we let them lick the dishes. A bad habit that has been reinforced in this household. They are truly spoiled dogs.

Carl always gets to lick first, and Cutter waits patiently, for his uncle to lick part of the dish. Then Cutter gets to lick the rest.

"Oh boy. It's my turn."

After breakfast they got to cuddle with  their auntie.  Cutter still gets a little overwhelmed with too much closeness, but Sis finally won him over.

And, a few days later, when it was time for her to leave, they were both unhappy about saying goodbye.

"Where are you going Auntie?"

Look at Carl's expression. It was a sad moment.

*********************************

While Sis was here we spent a morning down on the river. First we drove to the new river access under the highway 49 bridge.
The drive down to the water was springtime magic.

The whole area from the highway to the river was covered with a daisy like flower that had been planted along the road, with lots of California poppies in between all the beautiful yellow flowers. It was a most beautiful site. 

The river was flowing wide and deep... and clouds were moving in from the west.

It was a perfect spring day in the foothills.

After we tiptoed through the daisies, we drove back toward Jackson ,over the Mokelumne River bridge and north to see the hills of poppies that I posted on  Wordless Wednesday.

It was so beautiful. Nature never fails us here in the foothills.

********************************

On Tuesday we went to Sutter Creek and had lunch.

We went to some of our favorite stores... mostly "just looking", because these are high end stores and things tend to be a bit pricey. But, there is always the possibility of a surprise "bargain". You just never know when something will be on sale that you can't resist.

We introduced the owner of Romancing the Range to the Magnolia Pearl website. She had never seen or heard of this amazing women and her endeavours. The clothes in this store are all "cowboy meets Pearl" kinds of clothing and she went crazy when she saw The website. Check it out. The music is worth the link. It's beautiful. She also has a blog..... My, oh my!  Read a few of the posts on her blog and you'll see why I call her amazing.

********************************

Loved having Sis here. It had been a while since her last visit. It rained most of yesterday but we managed one more lunch downtown before she left for home. 

 Thanks for coming up. We all miss you . Carl and Cutter have been looking for you all day. 

I will see you soon.

Wordless Wednesday: Young Pallid Bat

                                                                    

Carl and Cutter's Excellent Adventure

Yesterday we packed a lunch, harnessed the pups and headed on out for the day. We drove south to a town called...

The Prospector's gold club was having an "outing" there. We didn't want to spend the whole day on the river but we wanted to see Knight's Ferry. So we decided to take the dogs, have lunch on the Stanislaus River and see the longest covered bridge in the state of California. Knowing the area we figured that the hike down to the river would be a long and steep one. The Prospector's knee has been giving him trouble lately so we choose not to join the gold group and just did a day trip to see the covered bridge.
We drove across the Mokelumne River and south through San Andreas and Angels Camp. We went west to Copperopolis and took an old road south to Knight's Ferry. It took about an hour and a half with a pit stop in the middle of some ranch land below Copper' so we and the dogs could relieve ourselves. NO ONE passed us or came by while I propped myself near the car, using the edge of the open door for support. I used to be able to do this without holding on to anything in my younger days. I guess I'm getting old... Poor old knees don't hold me up like they use to.
I learned, this summer in Montana, how to sit on the side of the open car door and relieve myself. I won't go into detail but it works really well when there are Grizzly Bears (or cows watching) in the area and you might need to make a fast exit back into the car. It also keeps you from getting your shoes wet.... if you're following my drift.
Anyway, We finally got to Knight's Ferry. It's a very little town. This is just about the extent of it...

I'm sure there are some side streets but it's just a tiny town with a lot of history. We drove through it and parked in a beautiful area right on the river with picnic tables and BATHROOMS. Carl and Cutter were getting really excited. They saw other dogs and their owners. They barked their arrival and wanted out of the car. We got them hooked securely to their leashes and started walking. In the distance I could see something long and beautiful reaching across the river. It was the Covered Bridge. I had never seen something so beautiful.

The weather was lovely. Cool and kind of sunny. The fog has been really awful in the valley and some of it was still lingering around the hills to the west but the sun was trying very hard to overcome all of this. We walked on a trail that led to a huge old ruin.

This was, originally, a flour mill and then a power house.  Then, just past the old mill the entrance to the bridge ....

I think that the first time I saw a covered bridge was in the movie called The Bridges of Madison County and I was enamored of them from that moment on. They became the "romantic" movie location of my dreams.
This covered bridge lived up to all my expectations. I wanted "Clint" to be walking toward me from the other end, or Sam Elliot, or.... lucky me.... The Prospector with two cute little Corgis in toe....

This is such a romantic bridge. While we were there a photographer was taking pictures of two young people. I would guess they were having pre-natal photos taking, which is kind of different, because she was VERY pregnant and it was all about the belly, which was totally exposed. I guess I'm getting old. Maybe they were engagement or wedding pictures, I don't know, but something was kind of out of sequence. Anyway, they seemed very happy and  it was a perfect place for any kind of professional photos.
We walked across the bridge and I took a few more pictures.

Someone made steps down to the river. I thought they were beautiful.

We started up the trail. Carl and Cutter were having a grand time. They were on a mission to mark every dog spot that they came to. Everyone ahead of us had a dog too so Carl and Cutter were trying to pee on every dog fragrance they could find. They finally ran out of liquid and just pretended.

The trail got steeper and finally it was overlooking the river. What a beautiful sight. At the top someone had built a bench for the weary hikers. I thought that was a nice touch. The Prospector sat for a few minutes but said that his knee felt better when he was walking than sitting so we went up a bit further. Then we saw the trail that led down to the river's edge and we knew that we didn't want to walk down that path. Down would have been OK but coming back up would have been difficult. My husband has a doctor's appointment to see what is going on with his knee in a few weeks and he doesn't want to damage it further before then. So we turned around and headed back down the trail.

Carl and Cutter were so good. They were really enjoying the walk. This was a big adventure for them both. Carl acting like he does this everyday and Cutter bopped around like the puppy that he is. He watches to see what Carl is doing and then runs ahead to see what is next. I was taking photos most of the time but when I took Carl separately, Cutter wanted to be sure that Carl was coming behind him. He thinks that Carl needs to give him the "OK" for everything and then he goes ahead and makes his own way.
He barked a few times but only, I think, in reacting to these two little pip squeaks that were making all this noise. He was tolerating them.

We passed these huge rocks that towered over the river and us.

Ancient, weather worn sentinels that form the bedrock of the river and hold it to it's channel. So much bedrock and stone. They saw the native Indians, then the first pioneers and now us. It's kind of humbling how long they have been here.... how long they will be here. Someday my great grandchildren will take this walk and come across the same rocks. Do you suppose they will think the same thoughts... be humbled in the same way.... Feel the strength and fortitude of these huge earthlings. I can only hope. I must bring my grandchildren here. They need to see things that last longer than time. They need to know the strength of Nature.

And so we continued back down the trail to the object of my desire.... the covered bridge. Another photographer was taking pictures of another couple. The pups met up with another Corgi, who was very well trained and didn't bark at all. Oh well...
We passed the Mill Office....

And a tribute to the Native Indians that lived in this area...

We gave the pups water, had lunch, and talked to a guy, with a dog, who use to have a Corgi and loved the breed. His dog was so friendly. Ours were anxious and noisy... Always trying to control the situation.
We all got into the car and headed across another, newer bridge, finding the highway and driving East toward Jamestown and Sonora.
Tomorrow I will continue the trip and then head home. I still have more to tell you about and places to show you.This is the MOTHER LODE. There is so much history here. The weather is perfect and the days are getting longer.
I felted another piece that I knitted, today, so I'm spending the day blogging and trying to figure out what I want to do with these wonderful felted pieces.
See you tomorrow....