We've entered the annual May Gray portion of the weather year in Malibu which, considering the new summer normal of coastal heatwaves and high humidity, I have come to cherish. Here's the moment this afternoon when the marine layer lifted and the mountain colors came to life.
Baby Walt in 2013, still deciding if this whole adoption thing is going to work out OK. (Spoiler alert -- it did.)
There's a stunning field of wildflowers on one of our mountain walks, thousands of tiny blue stars with occasional bursts of purple. Blue-eyed grass is the poetic name of the pale blue flowers, but the purple ones, their colors so deep and velvety, got stuck with 'hairy vetch'. Go figure.
These are the hawk parents whose nest I'm now
obsessed with interested in and yesterday they were doing a bit of soaring and hunting.
The bees and hummingbirds have been arguing over the Spanish lavender, which is having a beautiful post-rain bloom.
Not much growing space here at Casa de LOUD! so the everything is in pots, including a few dozen annuals saying thank you for all of that (let's face it, it was really weird) April rain.
It was great to spot the hawk's nest yesterday:
Just as I wondered if it was in use, a pair of hawks swooped in:
Look closer and you'll see one of them is carrying
a mouse lunch.
The kitchen doorway is now Walt's favorite spot when someone's cooking. This, I think, was the moment a few tablespoons of New Mexico pasilla negro went into the pot of chile and Walt, a purist when it comes to beef, was skeptical.
With so many out-of-towners insisting on using the closed trails and parks and beaches, it really is a zoo here this weekend.
No rainbows in the storms right now so here's one from 2009, a chunk of color dropping down on Santa Monica.
Throwback Thursday: The view from Paradise Cove on Dec. 7, 2009.
She may be turning 3 in a few weeks but so far, with her big round head and wackadoodle energy, Daisy's puppy credentials remain firmly intact.
For most of the afternoon we had slow, sustained rain, the sound and light and scent and chill all mesmerizing.
Closed to the public, but undergoing repair. It felt good to get a quick peek through the now-shuttered doors.
I've been reading that even a few weeks of worldwide quarantine have affected the natural world. One of the best stories so far is this piece in The Atlantic, with people in Rome realizing songbirds live in their midst, and seismologists marveling at the sudden silence that lets them sense minor earthquakes far across the globe.
Throwback Thursday, shot on Dec. 5, 2011.
Here we have another 'foolish humans' edition of Puppy Wednesday, in which the humans leave the bed and the canines take over.