Amazingly otherworldly photos from Carlsbad State Beach at low tide this afternoon. Lots of wind and blue skies.
Do you think this looks like a donut as much as I do? It’s not though, just a rock treasure alongside a seashell treasure.
Cool tide pools.
Right this minute, there’s nothing to see here except for a fence and a pine tree.
Not a bad view as far as views go, but it’s what happened seconds BEFORE I snapped this pic that makes it memorable.
For me; sadly, not for you.
So it’s a memory stored somewhere in my hippocampus and now hold on a sec, I need to save this draft and swiftly do some research to make sure I’m right.
OK, I’m back and here’s what Google taught me…
Deep inside the medial temporal lobe is the region of the brain known as the limbic system, which includes the hippocampus, the amygdala, the cingulate gyrus, the thalamus, the hypothalamus, the epithalamus, the mammillary body and other organs, many of which are of particular relevance to the processing of memory.
I’m right; memories are stored in the hippocampus.
Use your imagination because I’ll try to explain what you didn’t get to experience:
In the photo, if you pretend you can see what you can’t see, the bottom of the fence that you can only see about half of, there’s a potting table.
I was standing there planting lavender that I had propagated myself. I’ve been doing that for years with a decent amount of success, and it was time to birth another lavender baby.
I wasn’t making a lot of noise, but I wasn’t quiet, either…I was fully immersed in the whole procedure, enjoying the blueblue sky and eighty-five degree weather.
There was a cooling mug of ginger tea next to me and next to that was my phone.
I looked up as two doves flew out of that pine tree.
At almost precisely that same exact time. a HUGE redtailed hawk (who must have been stalking the doves) perched himself on the the fence.
He was LITERALLY INCHES AWAY FROM ME.
I mean, if I had longer arms, I could have reached out and touched his beautiful feathers.
REALLY REALLY.
His golden eyes looked right at me and they widened, as if he was surprised-like WTF human–but he wasn’t nearly as astonished as I was. I froze. We stayed that way, eye to eye, gazing at each other for an eternity of probably less than five seconds before he launched himself off the fence and flew away. There was no fear, simply the connection between the hawk and myself.
It was a MOMENT.
I am not at all kidding; to look into the mystical magical gaze of a hawk and see the recognition that he was trying to make sense of the encounter as much as I was–is HUGE.
Moment-ous. Important.
Regretfully, no pics to share. But I’ll never ever forget the way he looked at me. Eye to eye.
I read that November 11, 2018 is a memorable time in this Universe. If you believe in things like this, it’s SIGNIFICANT.
And I believe that my hawk experience was significant, too. And if not, it was so so beautiful and made me happy and joyful and grateful. All good stuff.
Happy Sunday, y’all!
Well, maybe butterflies do.
I stalked this Western Tiger Swallowtail like a seasoned paparazzi from TMZ.
Easy on the eyes for your Sunday enjoyment.
No drama.
Breathe.
So much is upsetting at WordPress…the change in the Reader and the format of the write/edit/publish page–whoever thought one could HATE to see “beepbeepboop” as much as I do — so in order to recapture my ZEN, here’s one of my favorite pictures of nasturtiums from the garden.
Because ORANGE.
It looks like a painting.
Enjoy this mostly #wordlesswednesday
enchantedseashells.com
There are plenty of loquats to share and a comfortable seat to soak up the sun’s rays.
House finches love fruit.
enchantedseashells.com
Such a bountiful harvest; where do I begin?
enchantedseashells.com
This one looks good and ripe.
enchantedseashells.com
How about a profile pic?
enchantedseashells.com
…floating effortlessly on the soft breezes, possibly to lift our spirits lowered by the demise of the baby hummingbirds, is a butterfly sprite of cerulean polka dots and bands of gold called Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa).
With a nod to Lizzi @ Considerings who asked the question on her Facebook page and got me thinking about one of my favorite books, Betty Smith’s 1943 novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; here in my garden, although water use is now restricted because of the drought and we can no longer grow brightly colored but thirsty blossoms, there’s still beauty if you look for it.
Mother Nature is amazing.
Catching some rays on the rock garden.
So pretty…
Can I come a little closer?
What grows in YOUR garden?
Our very own full nest.
Property of enchantedseashells.com
#hummingbird #nature #nestingbirds #birds #MotherNature #love #motherslove
Everybody needs some bliss; especially ME when tugboat man comes home unexpectedly and then even more shocking, gets a call to return to work WHILE WE’RE DRIVING HOME FROM THE AIRPORT!
It’s not unheard of in the maritime world, but I’ve not really experienced it until now.
Glass half full; we had an enjoyable one-and-a-half days. Thirty-six hours is better than nothing.
It’s important to stay positive and present in the moment, rather than dwelling on the injustice, which would be a waste of time, and TIME is precious.
So he’s gone again and it’s time for a little bliss in the form of Mother Nature.
Breathe deeply and OMMMMMM….
Butterflies…
Bee on buckwheat. 
Bunny trying to get into the vegetable garden. 
I also saw a baby bunny running around, but couldn’t snap a pic before he ran under the deck.
Baby announcement!
The ultimate blissful event is the birth of one of my resident hummingbird’s eggs; you can BARELY see a miniature fluffy speck huddled in the bottom of the nest.
Mom feeding her newborn. 
And JUST NOW, the second egg hatched! Could anything be more amazing than Mother Nature?
Here’s an update: Pretty good close up video of the two newborn hummingbirds:
Ending with the B is for Bliss theme, a boat birdhouse.
At least THIS boat is firmly anchored and will stay in one place, right?
After the rain; blue sky bliss.
Gone in the blink of an eye; it’s as if he was never here, except that he fixed a couple of my car’s minor problems and I have more laundry than usual.
Tugboat man should be home for sure at the end of June; at that point he’ll have been out to sea for more than ninety days when it was only supposed to be for six weeks.
Such is the life of a tugboat captain’s wife.
PS All photos, unless otherwise noted, are property of EnchantedSeashells.
Take a walk with me around my garden where we once again have temps in the 80s. (Don’t hate.)
Birds are nesting and everything else is blooming and growing.
Bringing a twig to her babies. I think she’s a Warbling Vireo.
Lucky mom, HER nest won’t be empty this year like mine is!
A fragrant freesia.
Nectarine in bloom.
Marguerite Daisy.
The veggie garden, lots of lettuce, radishes, kale, and beets.
Yummy, spicy radishes and spring onions.
Sweet Pea Bush
Happy Pansy!
Happy Spring!
English: Small hand-drawn ant graphic (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
It was a day like any other day.
My tugboat man and I awoke to the caw-caphony of a million restless crows, wishing us either a good morning or something less pleasant from the tops of every eucalyptus tree in Southern California.
I could almost taste that first fragrant sip of coffee as I put on my glasses and pulled open the drapes.
Trader Joe’s French Roast, freshly ground, filtered water — I was salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs (need I interject how much I abhor and detest any kind of animal experimentation?)
Tugboat man opened the patio doors.
“Good morning. It’s gonna be a hot one”, he said.
“That’s what they say”, I replied. And “Good morning to you!”
We are polite like that, we really are! (Well, most some of the time.)
“You’re not gonna like this”, cautioned my tugboat man.
“Uh oh, what’s wrong?”
“The kitchen is covered in ants.”
“On every surface.”
“I know you’re going to go crazy. I better leave now, haha.”
“OH MY GOD!”
“AY DIOS MIO”
This day just turned into the worst day ever.
Can you imagine what a roomful of ants, not only on every surface, countertop, floor, sink, and cupboard DOES to someone like me who is ever-so-slightly OCD?
I didn’t know where to start.
But I knew we needed coffee before anything was going to happen.
However long this cleanup would take, my strategy was to begin where it was most needed — the coffee pot area.
Can you believe there ware ants INSIDE THE GLASS CARAFE?!
Because of our ongoing drought and extreme heat, I guess they were searching for water; quite possibly that’s why the kitchen sink was black with swarming ants.
Or maybe they just decided to choose Casa de Enchanted Seashells for some sort of karmic retribution — for what, I have no idea, as I try to NEVER hurt or maim one of Mother Nature’s creatures.
But this was too much to bear.
I could foresee the hours of my day…purging all of the pots and pans and dishes out of the cupboards and food out of the pantry — cleaning and sterilizing every f***ing thing.
Like soldiers marching on the Rhine, they broke me.
I retreated.
I waved the white flag.
But it was only a strategy designed to divert those little soldiers from their goal of full-scale conquest.
I reached under the sink, surreptitiously pulled out a gigantic canister of ant spray, and with a battle cry reminiscent of Mel Gibson In Braveheart I let loose a vigorous stream of poison with the force of General Leslie Groves‘ Manhattan Project atomic bomb testing in Los Alamos, New Mexico.
Princess Rosebud won this round. I’m not proud that I surrendered to the use of toxins to win this war, but I felt I had no choice.
Finally, we enjoyed a well-deserved mug of life-giving, life-sustaining dark, rich, bold coffee.
The spoils of war, my friends.
Mission Accomplished.
P.S. As much as I wanted them GONE, I can’t help but admire their determination. Let’s all sing along with Frank Sinatra in “High Hopes”
SUNDAY UPDATE…BREAKING NEWS…
Mission NOT so accomplished. A terror cell of insurgents split from the main army, invading our bedroom. Coming from the attic, this has nothing to do with being thirsty. This is a military coup. Princess Rosebud is fighting back alone; her tugboat man retreated to the safety of a beach.
Gif source: http://webhost.bridgew.edu/jhayesboh/coffee/steaming-heart-cup.gif
