Neither a closed window nor locked door kept me trapped inside. I roamed my godparent’s neighborhood at midnight or stretched out on the crabgrass and watched shooting stars. Imaginative thoughts found their way on paper. Music, any kind of music, was mine to hear. Eye makeup. Long hair. Fashion boots. Tight jeans.
Life seemed abundant in this rare forest — one of three Monterey pine forests in the world. But it dies a bit more with each blink of the eye. Pines once with green needles are now tinged in burnt-sienna — the first sign of a tree’s fight for life.
It’s as if we’ve been gifted with a reminder that what we have on this planet is delicate and beautiful. That’s how […]
“I’m a minority in Paso,” Neeta began, “and it is amazing the support I’ve received here. Not once has my heritage been an issue. We celebrate my heritage and I believe what the community wants is for people to just have a heart.”
Jalama Beach also offers a look into California history. The Jalama Creek estuary, as noted by one of the signs posted, was once a Chumash Village. Both grandchildren actually found that interesting, especially when they learned that the chert we found on the beach was collected by the Chumash and fashioned into arrowheads and blades. That led to a hunt for what my grandson thought would make a perfect carving stone. He found one, but decided to leave it on the beach.
This time last year I wanted to gather my own tribe around my dining room table. I craved their ways of thinking, experiences, wisdom, crafts and talents. But the problem with “my tribe” is we are not very tribal and gathering these folks at one time is akin to herding feral cats — which is why I love this weakly defined tribe.So, instead, I hiked the desert, wandered through the forests, listened to the rivers and ocean, bought mounds of books to read and ponder, and took to what I’ve always done at challenged life moments — threw words on paper in hopes of sorting it all out.
Spotting scope zeroed in on a nesting female peregrine falcon, director chairs set up for conversation near the base of Morro Rock, it takes less than 15 minutes before a person asks, “Are you Bob?” or says, “Bob, I brought my family to see the falcons.”
“Welcome back,” Bob Isenberg greets, as he readies to share his personal excitement about the recently hatched chicks on a Morro Rock State Preserve ledge. There, a 5-year-old female peregrine falcon (falco peregrinus) that arrived on the Rock three years ago with an ID tag stamped “23R” that tracks her beginnings at the Moss Landing Power Plant, has taken on a life-partner and set up a new eyrie (a bird of prey’s nest), one never used before, as noted on Isenberg’s website pacificcoastperegrinewatch.org.
23R’s arrival joined the only other nesting peregrine on the Rock — an older female that hasn’t produced viable eggs for the last three years, according to Isenberg.
The first California coast cleanup began in the mid-1970s, when an Arcata recycler operated beach cleanups in search of recyclables. Oregon, however, was the first state to organize a state-wide volunteer beach cleanup in 1984, called the “Plague of Plastics.”
A lost mermaid would be drawn to the bright ocean-themed mural that covers the front of the Coastal Discovery Center — a hotbed of seaside activity in a cool little corner of San Luis Obispo County.
The Coastal Discovery Center is a local treasure for learning more about Central California’s coastline and the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary (MBNMS), which operates the Center in partnership with California State Parks.
Recently, when what appeared to be an angry man tagged me as a snowflake, my first reaction was, “How lovely!” I mean, have you ever looked at the unparalleled beauty of a snowflake when it is magnified?