With Bluffs Park closed and the parking lot at Solstice Canyon a version of the Hunger Games, Walt goes for a lot of walks in Legacy Park these days.
The handsome border collie loves to stick his head out of the window when we're driving and after several different people talked up the idea of dog goggles -- yes, they're referred to as 'doggles', and yes, it's hard to bring yourself to say that out loud -- I finally ordered a pair.
Because he's incredibly polite, Walt sat still as we fiddled around and figured out the fit. And because it's also kind of absurd, he put up with a lot of laughing. BUT the joke turns out to be on the humans in his life. On our first drive he stuck his head out of the window and you could just see the light bulb go off. No dry eyes!
After that first trip, when the goggles came off, they were covered in grit and (dead bugs) goo. All in all, as with his raincoat, a very good investment. Also apparently entertaining to fellow drivers, who point and laugh and take his picture.
It's the closest we come to the aurora borealis this far south, at dawn instead after dark, in shades of pink instead of greens and blues, but still, pretty great.
Sunrise at the Malibu pier, taken on December 14, 2018.
One of my favorite oaks with one of my favorite hawks:
Having a sighting always feels like good luck.
It's not the first time this photo has appeared on the blog but I just love the Great American Road Trip beginnings of Paradise Cove. Mrs. Kissell used to let her friends park their travel trailers in the Cove for extended vacations. Eventually -- and who didn't see this coming -- they just stayed.
Today marks 14 (yikes!) years of a love letter to Malibu. Let's celebrate with some interpretive dance!
To clear our heads from yesterday's unsettling imagery, a bulletin from the planter box on the front porch, where sunflowers and morning glories remind us of the tender side of summer.
This is so very weird and unsettling that I'm going to tuck it down a page. You'll have to scroll.
I warned you.
The top mark go to the seagull, not the human, who strolls past the trash (and the trashcan) without picking it up. Civic pride!