Courtesy of the kids here, Walt got a trick and a treat. Such a good guy.
Meanwhile, in a neighborhood not that far away:
There's water in the Legacy Park pond again and egrets on the hunt for dinner (and humans in need of something beautiful) are grateful.
Malibu Canyon was a stark dividing line when it came to the winds today. To the north, you could barely keep your feet. To the south, barely a breeze. (It's a video, slow to load, so you have to wait a bit.)
Join us on a walk through the Paramount Ranch, where the clouds reminded us that one of these days, the rains will return.
There's a slight medical emergency here so while your faithful blogger is lost in the labyrinth of various unhelpful bureaucracies, please join this coyote in enjoying the sunset.
Shot from the little cottage in the hills above Zuma Beach on August 27, 2014. Honestly? Feels like yesterday.
After Daisy died last May, I tried to adopt an adult dog. I was looking for a senior, a female, and found four different dogs who could have been a good fit. A dog who would get along with Walt, who was good with kids, and who didn't have medical issues beyond my abilities. One was from the Ventura County shelter, but she got adopted a few days before the date of my telephone appointment to apply. And instead of letting me keep that telephone appointment to move forward with our second choice, the shelter just canceled it. Not at all helpful. So we then started looking at rescue groups, filled out applications, gave references, answered intrusive questions, and heard back from...no one.
The whole point of this is that Daisy's mom gave birth to a litter last week and the owner has saved a puppy for me, a female black Lab. She turned one week old yesterday, and she's somewhere in the pile of puppies below. Right now they're fairly inert, just heat-seeking milk-guzzling lumps of fur. They don't even really look like puppies yet, and the kids here seesaw between ooh! and eww! when they look at the photos. The pups start opening their eyes in another week, then their ears unseal, and then it's all about the learning curve. It's unexpected to be getting Daisy's half-sister, a truly happy time, but also so bittersweet.
(Also, yes, that's a tiny trampoline in the back courtyard. Stress relief.) (And occasional dog bed.)
While fishing around in my closet a few weeks ago I found this photo of my grandmother in Paris. That her granddaughter would one day be deciding between yoga pants and a pair of sweats to wear to work that day would never in a million years have crossed her mind.
Zooming in on an egret has the same level of realism as this Zoom meeting that's about to start. At least with the egret it becomes (squint and maybe you'll see it?) almost a watercolor.
Happy Monday, everyone. Let's all squint all day.
Yes, this was last month, but I only just remembered to download the photos, a daylight moon briefly appearing, then gone again behind the marine layer.
The beautiful sunrise shot by my beautiful sister in northern LA County horse country this morning,
Photo by Liz Neuman
When things get a bit too intense down here at ground level (2020, I'm looking at you) I often think of this moment, a daring aeronaut flying free through the autumn sunset.
Throwback Thursday: Above Zuma Beach, shot from the little cottage on Oct. 11, 2015
The kids here talk about Daisy in the present tense. It started the day she died and at first it was unsettling. Now though, it blurs the lines, erases time, keeps us all moving forward.
One of these days we'll accept the invitation to the steep and barren trail that heads up and east, but for now, we head down into the shade of the oak glen.
This was in the Whole Foods parking lot, and even though we idled and tarried and probably came thisclose to crossing the line into stalking, the self-described Iron Chef never showed up.
One of Walt's favorite walks is (go figure) along PCH. He ignores the noise and revels in the scents, takes forever to move a few feet. And so it is that we've become familiar with an odd little storefront on the beach side of the road. The windows are filthy, a glaze of greasy dust. The interior stays lit by the same few lamps, dim spills of amber amid Dickensian clutter. No one is ever around.
It's the front windows that really catch your eye, though, an eccentric collection of...things. Amid a lantern, a wax apple, and a few crispy orchids stand the true stars of the display, a parade of tall wooden nutcrackers, primary colors glowing, watching the world go by.
This silk floss tree has been blooming in an empty lot for decades. Considering the years of drought, the long months between rainy seasons, and the recent heat waves, it's doing pretty well.
That tract, like everything around the Civic Center, is slated for development. That makes the traffic cones, which appeared a few weeks ago, an unwelcome mystery.
If only, in addition to the sight and sounds of this stormy day at the Point Dume headlands, we could have also preserved the scent of the falling rain.
Throwback Thursday: The Point Dume headlands on March 6, 2019 at 11:42 a.m.