Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Friday, August 30, 2013

Silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone. ~G.B. Stern

And neither is complaining about the smoke, which is awful.
And then I found this quote...
But sound aloud the praises, and give the victor-crown
To our noble-hearted Firemen, who fear not danger's frown.
~Frederic G.W. Fenn, "Ode to our Firemen," 1878


And although the smoke is awful.
And the yard art is choking...

And the Sunflowers can't find much sun...
I think back to the fire on our mountain, two years ago and how the fireman rushed into the burning area and saved our home and how I yelled "Thank you." to everyone of them as we drove back up through the burned hillside to our house... the ground still smoldering around us. 

So, to all the fireman of California (and the Western US) who are on the lines of every fire that rages,
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. 

The smoke from the Rim fire near Yosemite is annoying and my lungs are tired of breathing in smoke every day... but the folks up country nearer to the Rim fire are closer, more in danger and living (for weeks) under the constant threat of loosing their homes.  
The mass effort to fight this fire is extraordinary.
The firefighters are working long hours... “We have to work 72 or 96 hours in a row, and being away from your family with little sleep and physically demanding takes a toll,”
Some woman who lives up there opened her Tattoo business and gave firefighters free haircuts and the community brought food for them to eat . That's gratitude that makes a difference.
It’s the fifth-largest wildfire in California history. On Thursday, it was in its 12th day and it had only been contained 32%, according to Cal Fire. 

Hug a firefighter and feel warm all over.  ~Author Unknown

 

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Remembering the Weekend

I'm glad that I'm home. The smoke from the Rim Fire is subsiding but the smell of it is in the air. The wind must have shifted. The smoke sits up country like a shroud of gray to the east. The fire is only 30% contained.
So here I sit with Carl and Cutter, eating my breakfast...
 and thinking about my long weekend trip, my friend and her life in a quirky, little Delta town...

Thinking... about the Crawdad Cajun Festival that brings folks to this sleepy town once a year and will be called something else from now on, because chamber members have sold the rights to the festival, along with its name.  It's quite a controversy that you can read about HERE.
Wondering... why there are a few folks who are desperately trying to save this little town even though it's an uphill battle. And how some other folks only seek to use its marginal existence to their gain.
How could anyone not want to restore the history of a place.
... to revive an old town. It's sad.

The beauty of this place is evident. The sunsets that turn everything to gold on a warm summer night along the edges of the old Sacramento River...

Battles are being fought out here. The State "powers that be" also want to build tunnels in the delta and reduce the water in this delicate area to send it down to Southern California. The compromises that destroy habitat are offered as an alternative to the farmers loss of water. This is another story.



Where is the higher ground here? Why is it always about money and power?

A cat greets you on Main St. as if it was "the mayor".
 And a miniature Chewbacca from Star Trek is the middle man for
 its owner...a young man who talks to you like you've always lived there.

The beauty of this place is in the pride of some of the residents.
There is a quiet friendliness in its restaurants and "history museum".
There are folks who care. There are people who try to do the right thing.
******************

I came home to heat and smoke... and was greeted by one of the locals on my road.
A curious little buck who will learn not to stand and stare at people who pull out big cameras.
  He will grow up and learn that a camera could be a rifle during hunting season. He will be "at risk", as an adult, but he will learn. He will become cautious and weary of humans.
I'm kind of tired of some humans myself. Not my friend "C"... who tries so hard to understand the inequities of life...  but those who insist on not doing the right thing.
I'm glad to be home. I enjoyed my visit, but it's time to be back up on my mountain where I can put things into perspective and try to find a "higher ground" that makes sense of the world around me.
I think it's here...
On my porch... a whisper of truth in a world of chaos.






the other chamber members into selling the rights to the festival along with the name. Supposedly, the sale was to pay off debts of the previous years festival that allegedly lost money. - See more at: http://www.deltanewsandreview.com/2013/02/isleton-saga-back-story-reprint.html#sthash.Rw28pH9z.dpuf
the other chamber members into selling the rights to the festival along with the name. Supposedly, the sale was to pay off debts of the previous years festival that allegedly lost money. - See more at: http://www.deltanewsandreview.com/2013/02/isleton-saga-back-story-reprint.html#sthash.EfKGU86O.dpuf

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Passion

“A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke” ~Vincent Van Gogh~
 
"Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever. . . it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything." ~Aaron Sussman~
 
Photography is an austere and blazing poetry of the real. ~Ansel Adams~

 
Photography is my meditation.~Czar Anthony Lopez~

There is only you and your camera. The limitations in your photography are in yourself,
 for what we see is what we are. ~Ernst Haas~


"I just wish that she would stop saying "Smile Carl."

Monday, August 19, 2013

Clouds

"Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?"
~John Milton
 
 "The clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober coloring from an eye
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality."
~William Wordsworth
"I'd like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around."  ~F. Scott Fitzgerald
"How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!"~ Thomas Hood
(Well, not quite yet. The heat of summer is still upon us.)
 
   "It had been gradually getting overcast, and now the sky was dark and lowering, save where the glory of the departing sun piled up masses of gold and burning fire, decaying embers of which gleamed here and there through the black veil, and shone redly down upon the earth...
...and then the darkness of an hour seemed to have gathered in an instant."  ~Charles Dickens, Old Curiosity Shop 

We had two rather amazing days of sunsets and then the wind shifted. Now we have smoke that has settled in from three fires in the mountains. It's very hot and humid and the smoke is like a shroud laying on the hills around us. These are what we refer to as "the dog days of summer". Hopefully, we will see a change in these horribly, hot days by the end of the week. 

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Walking the Bar.

I can't walk out into the hills right now, like I do in the winter. I would rather leave the rattlers to roam around by themselves. So I walk the road to the river.
 This way, I can see the snakes ahead of time and avoid a confrontation.

Last week, we had a few days under 100 degree. The mornings were lovely and there was really no excuse not to walk. So, I drove down to the main road. Yes, this is the main road to our house. This road leads to the Mokelumne River.  If you turn the other way, you reach a two lane highway that leads into town. We are offically, IN THE STICKS.

I drive down to this road from the house because we live up a very long, very steep dirt road that I love to walk down... but hate to walk back up, especially at the end of a long walk. So I drive down and park at the bottom. Then I get all excited when I return and find my little car waiting for me. It's like a Weight Watchers ice creme after dinner for staying on program. It's my little treat at the end of my walk.
I park the car, lock it (yes, even here) sling my camera over my head, put my phone in my pocket, check it for a connection and off I go. The walk doesn't require water, food or a gun. It's quick and relatively easy. This time NO ONE drove by except my neighbor, going to his mail box. He stopped and gave me a "Howdy". we talked for a few minutes, about snakes and that he was going to Bear River with his brother on the weekend and how he was working his dry creek bed for gold. 
"Be careful." he said.
"I will." I assured him.
and off he drove.
You can do that here... Stand in the middle of the road talking to your neighbor. Rarely does anyone come by and make you move over.
So I continued on.
We have an old gold mine on our property. It always has water coming out of it. We closed it up a long time ago because people would not leave it alone. We use to have a locked iron gate and a head frame at the entrance but it was an attractive nuisance. People broke the lock, stole our sign with the historic name and date on it and tromped all over the property. So we closed it up and caved it in. It was too much of a liability.
The water runs out of the old mine year round. That is why we have cattails.
Thousands of lush, beautiful Cattails. that line the road and are one of a few "green" things on this arid land.
The creek that runs all the way to the Mokelumne river is dried up this time of year. There is a huge fig tree, old and broken, that lies sideways across the creek bed. It's still producing figs without any help except from Mother Nature. But, it is badly damaged and will end up in the creek bed one of these winters.
So I continued on...
It was already getting warm. I appreciated the shady areas of the road.
When I got to my neighbor's entrance, I turned around.

This is a sign we gave our friend a long time ago. It was a joke gift for his birthday. He hung it on his gate. I still think it's funny. "NODIS"... Trepespasers'll be percekuted...
His road is worse than ours. It can be a river bed in the winter. But it works for him. I suppose that folks think we all live in little shacks or single wides when they look down our roads but we don't. We have real houses and garages too.... and great neighbors.

So I turned around and started walking back.
I love taking my camera with me. I don't walk as fast when I use it, but I find it connects me to small places that are part of my life here.
And there will always be the trash.
We try to keep it picked up but some of this will be found, in the future, under the forest debris. Won't it be interesting when, thousands of years from now, they dig down and find all these things and try to figure out what they were? What will a tire say about us? What will someone surmise about our civilization from the artifact they find?
We can't reach these tires. They are down the hillside too far. Maybe, in the winter, we can use a rope, hike down, tie them together and pull them up. Recently, the Prospector and our neighbor pulled up two mattresses that someone dumped and the city guys (bless their hearts) came and picked them up for us.
If we pick these things up and keep the road clean, people tend to dump less. I guess some of them see that this is a beautiful place and think before they throw something out the window. But there are always a few who can't wait for a garbage can. We pick up garbage everyday. Fast food containers, beer cans, plastic bottles, and the one that strikes terror in my heart... cigarettes and empty matchbooks or lighters.
This area is so dry in the summer.
The lovely Poison Oak is now brilliant in color but bone dry... kindling for one thrown match, one lit cigarette... and it only takes one small, hot tip of a cigarette to start a fire. We know.
Two years ago, this month, we almost lost everything. We escaped with the dogs and our cars... over the back of our property. As I look up toward my home now, I still see the dead pines and manzanita that will never come back. Ever present reminders of a fire that came to our door so fast that we had to leave goats, chickens and our whole life in that house and run from the flames. I still shake thinking about it. Thanks to our town's volunteer fire dept, Cal fire, the junior firefighters and the fire captain who went through flames to reach our house and fight the fire from the top down.
And still... there is new growth coming up in between the burnt trees.

I walk past the reminders of what happen that day.
It's remarkable how there is always new growth. In all the damage there will always be a new wild flower, a squirrel, and a red headed woodpecker that sits on a dead and burned pine tree every morning.

I finally see my car at the entrance. I'm tired and it's getting hot. I'm glad that the car is waiting there for me to drive up to the house.
I look down the road...
And then I turn and look behind me.
It's a good place to live. I've been here for almost sixteen years and it's my home.
Not the place I was raised. Not the place that we raised our children.
Certainly not the place I thought I would be in my older years... but, it's my home.
I love it here... Rattlesnakes, mountain lions and all.
It's a walk I didn't expect... but a good one.


Friday, August 16, 2013

Having fun with a Zinnia

My rugged Zinnias just keep blooming in the garden. Despise the lack of water and the very dry, dog days of summer, they persist.
This morning I took my Nikon D5100 camera outside, with a 105mm macro lens, and took a few shots. Then I had some fun with them in Picasa, a free, online, photo storage program, and transformed them with special effects.
 The beautiful reality


And the taking away of some color.
or the switching of color that focuses on the magical inner world of its center.
Another lovely reality
transformed into a drawing.
And finally the same zinnia... fresh out of the camera
And then... all zoomy in black and white.
This is how I spend a few hours of my retirement each day. It's a magnificent obsession... and so much fun.