What a shiny December morning in SoCal!
Astronomically high tides known as King Tides will appear just before Christmas, forecasters say.
This phenomenon, which describes what are typically some of the highest tides of the year, are scheduled to occur on December 23 and 24, and can cause coastal flooding.
The setting sun around the lagoon was especially exquisite. It was dark by 5pm, oh my.
Does it look chilly? It was.
The forecasted 60% chance of rain dwindled to 20% and we didn’t even get a single drop, but the clouds were spectacular.
We had rain, hardly enough to do anything but wet the street and sidewalk. After, the sky was painted with spectacular clouds and bonus moon sightings!
At the lagoon.
After the lagoon, walking up the hill, homeward bound.
#WordlessWednesday
A few sprinkles of welcome rain over the weekend made perfect timing for a beach walk.
Look at this GIGANTIC skeleton for Halloween. Not too scary, right?
Then I saw some literal beach bunnies on the upper sidewalk.
Beautifully overcast, no whales or dolphin, but the ubiquitous surfer reigns supreme.
This is what it looked like before a brief thunderstorm delighted all of us in SoCal.
It sounded as if someone was throwing around trash cans on the side of the house so I went out to look, and realized it was thunder! That’s an example of how novel an experience a thunder and lightening storm is for us.
We haven’t had rain in such a long time and it smells fresh right now, exactly the definition of the word petrichor.
Petrichor is the term coined in 1964 by Australian scientists to describe the unique, earthy smell associated with rain. It’s said to be caused by the water from rain, along with certain compounds like ozone, geosmin, and plant oils.
(https://www.acs.org/content/dam/acsorg/education/students/highschool/chemistryclubs/infographics/petrichor-the-smell-of-rain.pdf)
It looks like a bit more rain might visit us in the next few days. We’re excited to fill up our rain barrels and receive the bounty of Mother Nature.
Do strangers sometimes strike up random conversations with you in public?
Me, too.
Yesterday, standing outside Trader Joe’s, contemplating their plant display, I wondered if I should bring another one home. I spied a pretty little olive tree. My green thumbed son got one at his Traders and it’s now about fifteen feet tall, but that’s the difference between a drought climate and the Pacific Northwest, I guess.
As I pondered this decision, I noticed an elderly lady next to me seemingly in similar deliberations. She was beautifully attired like my mom would have been to go out for the day in a gorgeous dress with heels, accessorized with a sparkly brooch. Her hair was carefully coiffed.
Such a gorgeous human.
I picked up one olive tree and put it back, not sure if I wanted to potentially kill another living being. It’s difficult to grow a lot of things here with barely any rain and restricted watering. Even if it’s not restricted, the cost to effectively water is prohibiitve.
I pointed to the olive trees and said to her, “Are you thinking of getting one, too?”
She replied, “I would, but I can’t see how big it will get.” She had a bit of an accent.
I read the little informational sticker on the pot and told her, “Ten to fifteen feet unless it’s pruned.”
Then I shared with her my son’s successful experience with the olive tree in his garden and how it already created a few actual olives.
After that, she proceeded to tell me one wonderful story after another about growing up on an olive farm just outside of Rome.
Every fall, “just about this time”, she said, they’d pick tons of olives for eating and pressed olive oil and sold it all.
The olive trees outside of Trader Joe’s brought memories flooding back from her youth and you could tell she was wistfully remembering what were obviously happy times with her family.
I told her it was no wonder she had beautiful skin from all the olive oil and she smiled, reached out a hand to touch my arm, and thanked me for taking the time to talk to her.
Actually, it was MY pleasure.
I could have listened to her talk for hours. The stories about her childhood during and after WW 2 were fascinating. I wonder how and why she came to live in California.
(No, I didn’t get the tree, but it’s still under consideration.)
I’m involved in a search, rescue, and release mission because a baby lizard somehow sneaked in the house.
Right now he’s lying low, evading my efforts to liberate him, lurking behind the sofa.
I’ve tried everything; this isn’t the first time it’s happened, but so far I’m not successful in this rescue and release.
And that means neither is that lizard because there’s nothing for him to eat here – no flies, worms, caterpillars, nada.
I’m only trying to help.
I cleaned behind the sofa and now there’s no dust, either.
WHERE ARE YOU, LIZARD?
A brief Google search let me know that lizards symbolize resurrection, rebirth, and regeneration. In Egyptian hieroglyphics, the symbol of the lizard was representative of plentiful abundance. A lizard in one’s house is often seen to represent an old friend or acquaintance, reminding you of their spirit.
The next morning…still no sign of this lizard, but I’m still looking. I haven’t given up yet.
Just after noon, I almost stepped on this little lizard as he was well camouflaged on a floral rug, but he made a wise choice to reveal his location. I grabbed a plastic container, pushed him in, and ran outside to set him free.
Enjoy your freedom, my friend!
Mission accomplished.
After the winds and rain subsided, I checked on my garden and discovered two previously hidden cucumbers.
I remember planting a few seeds of the pickling variety but everyone was all mixed up and I couldn’t tell which was which until I saw these gigantic specimens.
I haven’t completely decided if I’ll eat them fresh and possibly not pickle them, because I didn’t discover any others that were ready.
And this one, too, not quite as deformed.
I’ve had success with pickling vegetables, here’s a post about that:
https://enchantedseashells.com/2015/07/06/easy-peasy-refrigerator-pickles-meatlessmonday/
There was an unexpected sprinkle this morning; not forecasted, but welcome nonetheless.
Happy Monday!
If tonight’s Harvest Moon along with Mercury Retrograde isn’t enough energy, here in SoCal, the outer bands of Hurricane Kay — now Tropical Storm Kay — woke me up with high winds and spotty rain, just an amuse-bouche of what’s to come tonight and tomorrow.
My windchimes are going crazy. I think I better take them down before the fifty mile an hour winds cause them to crash and break.
It’s still really HOT; the high temp for today will be right around ninety degrees, but next week’s forecast looks to be back to normal and cooler.
There have been several small fires in the area, but the larger one, the Fairview Fire, located northeast in Hemet has burned more than 27,000 acres moving toward Temecula. Lots of people and animals have been evacuated.
As of 9:00 a.m. here’s a CalFire update:
#ForkFire 780 acres, 20 % contained
#RadfordFire 1,088 acres, 59% contained
#BarnesFire 2,943 acres, 0% contained
#MillFire 3,935 acres, 80% contained
#MountainFire 11,690 acres, 55% contained
#MosquitoFire 14,250 acres, 0% contained
#FairviewFire 27,463 acres, 5% contained
Emergency officials warn us that this incoming storm could cause dangerous flooding and countywide damage.
I’m paying attention to Mother Nature for sure, I feel like I should contribute some kind of offering to her to show respect for her power.
She’s NOT playing around, a bit different than the gentle and nurturing mother Emily Dickinson wrote about:
Mother Nature
Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest, —
Her admonition mild
In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.
How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon, —
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down
Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.
When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky
With infinite affection
And infiniter care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.
It’s HOT.
6:30 a.m. and already 85 degrees. There are some monsoonal clouds drifting by and a bit of wind, but no rain.
I don’t think the temp has ever been this high this early, not that I can remember, anyway.
We are in an extended high heat warning. It was nearly one hundred degrees yesterday. Scorching, brutally hot.
It’s not often that we have humidity but that’s what made it all so unpleasant. Several records were broken. Climate change, anyone?
It was too hot to go outside. Because of the fires around here, air quality was poor.
And then critters started invading the house.
I heard the raucous chirping of a cricket and located the sound coming from the dining room.
Then, the family room was invaded by dozens of diminutive flying insects that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.
A lizard clung to the patio screen door. I told him it wasn’t any cooler inside–there’s no air conditioning and he’d fare better by hiding in the shade of a rock.
I filled a bowl with water for my bobcat and coyote family.
I’m now waiting for the locusts.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 