They've appeared a full month earlier than last year, these mountain wildflowers, but in this 4th drought year, I guess we're lucky to have them at all.

Here are more shots from a walk this week (and a few from last May, same flowers but better pix) with the oaks and sage and sycamores all growing and greening, doing their best to set the stage -- and seeds -- for new life next year.

This morning in the Santa Monica mountains, before the sun had climbed too high, the breeze was fresh and cool and carried scents of sage and pine and that mysterious mix of wet and dank and green that really should be called "lake".

In the trash bin they're garden trimmings; put them in a jelly jar and voila, a spring bouquet.

Claude Monet was looking over my shoulder and sighing as the colors swam and the sky smudged and the sun here didn't rise so much as melt into view. Not a bad way to usher in the day the calendar moves from winter into spring.

And PS: That bureaucratic black hole? Vanquished. And thank you for all of your encouraging emails.

Your faithful blogger has fallen far, far down a bureaucratic black hole so here, the healing power of pelicans.

Ahhh, better now.

After two (and a half) days of temps in the mid-90s, which is 10 degrees warmer for this time in March than the previous record, set in 1978, we here at the sun-struck and gridlocked coast see our prayers for rain as beyond futile and now merely look for overnight lows that bring sleep into the realm of the possible.

Meanwhile, stuff we saw this morning -- hot sunrise:

Empty beach:

And a hawk.

That's it, that question -- 91 degrees? March?? -- is all I've got.

Well, that and two sunsets.

If things ever get too serious all you have to do is wait a minute and it's Walter George 'Huck Finn' Clooney to the rescue.

You're welcome.

With the beaches here so crowded this weekend, we headed high into the hills. A bit warmer than at the coast, but so much quieter, and oh so very green.

As the sun rose--

...the moon set--

And downtown LA glowed on the horizon.

The Malibu coast is covered in gold these days as the giant coreopsis, our somewhat weird and completely wonderful coastal native wakes from its yearly sleep.

The headlands at Point Dume has the greatest concentration of plants, but be warned, there's hardly any (legal) parking.

If you do go, please (oh please) stay on the paths.

The headlands is a fragile and precious ecosystem and every step on the landscape does damage.

We have the start of a swell here at the coast today...

And the surfers here...

Are so happy.

We had one final cloudburst last night in Malibu, a deluge with lightning spreading through the clouds and thunder rocketing through the hills. It was glorious.

In the Santa Monica mountains the paths:

...and meadows:

...and trees are all turning green.

If I didn't have friends and family on the east coast I'd tell you it was chilly here this morning as the sun rose and the storm moved on. But since Winter Storm Thor (no kidding) isn't bearing down on us and so far, the surf here hasn't frozen in place, I'll settle for saying it was 44 degrees at dawn and an extra sweater was welcome.

Meanwhile, here's the Cove just after sunrise, the horizon rimmed with departing clouds:

And here's the pier, not a human or a footprint in sight.