Their dad did the carving, but the 7- and the 9-year-old boys did the designing. (And the micromanaging.)
To celebrate my favorite day of the week, let's go back to a time before California (and our democracy) were in flames and Walt was still a puppy. Awww.
Not sure when or why the foundation of this former house on PCH got turned into a garden, but I love the mix of defiance and whimsy.
Even if the canopies eventually recover, the trunks of the oaks in the mountains here tell their fire stories for as long as they live.
The colors -- and perils -- of the autumn landscape here. Every blade of (invasive) grass that turned the mountains green last spring has since turned gold, and into tinder.
Hard to say what's more dismaying -- how bare the Santa Monica mountains still are nearly a year after the fires, or how few people even realize it.
Actually, the latter.
A view on Cornell Road near Mulholland Highway.
We have moderate gusting winds, tons of smoke, and at this time, no local fire. Everyone's on edge, needless to say, and praying for the safety of the first responders and residents of the fire zone.