friday's walk
The weather is gorgeous. I'm hoping for more rain later this week - we haven't had near enough for the season- but part of why I love California is that in between rain storms there are beautiful, sunny, gorgeous days. It was a day like that on Friday, so I went for a walk. I took my jacket along. It's February, after all, and I was only wearing a t-shirt with my jeans. But the only reason I needed the jacket was to hold the oranges I stole from the neighbor's tree. Sandals & a t-shirt in February! ::beams::
Along my route I saw daffydowndillies in bloom. On the same slope were the feathery leaves of california poppy plants, whose ember-orange blossoms will not show to cheer us until April, at the earliest. The evergreen pears near my house are already losing their blossoms and starting to leaf out, but several plum trees are in full bloom. One of them was filled with a flock of bitty birds, each hopping among the branches to tease at the flowers. I should probably know what type of bird they are, but all I currently know is what they weren't. (They weren't chickadees, and I don't think they were titmice, either. Titmice are about the right size and color, but I've never known them to flock, and I didn't see any of the distinctive crests on their heads. Perhaps I'll walk the same path today, carrying a bird book with me, and see if I can find them again to identify them.)
I also startled half-a-dozen quail into scurrying along a slope. I'm always amused by the way they move. It's neither graceful nor graceless, but some odd category in between. They have such little legs, and round bodies, yet they can cover a lot of ground very quickly. Better than watching them scurry, though, are the noises they make. Such a wide range of sounds come from these birds, often very liquid, musical chirrups.
Some of the Arbutus and Manazanita around here are blooming in patches, as they have been all winter. Their flowers are so small that a lot of people probably wouldn't notice the clusters amid the glossy dark green leaves. But a neighbor's hedge of rosemary is a blatant and stunning bank of blue. The bees hadn't found it yet, but if the weather stays warm another few days I'm sure that sky of flowers will be accompanied by their steady golden buzzing.
All lovely. But for some reason I'm wanting the walnut trees to leaf out, the new green buds against the dark rugged bark. Not yet, though. Not yet.
Along my route I saw daffydowndillies in bloom. On the same slope were the feathery leaves of california poppy plants, whose ember-orange blossoms will not show to cheer us until April, at the earliest. The evergreen pears near my house are already losing their blossoms and starting to leaf out, but several plum trees are in full bloom. One of them was filled with a flock of bitty birds, each hopping among the branches to tease at the flowers. I should probably know what type of bird they are, but all I currently know is what they weren't. (They weren't chickadees, and I don't think they were titmice, either. Titmice are about the right size and color, but I've never known them to flock, and I didn't see any of the distinctive crests on their heads. Perhaps I'll walk the same path today, carrying a bird book with me, and see if I can find them again to identify them.)
I also startled half-a-dozen quail into scurrying along a slope. I'm always amused by the way they move. It's neither graceful nor graceless, but some odd category in between. They have such little legs, and round bodies, yet they can cover a lot of ground very quickly. Better than watching them scurry, though, are the noises they make. Such a wide range of sounds come from these birds, often very liquid, musical chirrups.
Some of the Arbutus and Manazanita around here are blooming in patches, as they have been all winter. Their flowers are so small that a lot of people probably wouldn't notice the clusters amid the glossy dark green leaves. But a neighbor's hedge of rosemary is a blatant and stunning bank of blue. The bees hadn't found it yet, but if the weather stays warm another few days I'm sure that sky of flowers will be accompanied by their steady golden buzzing.
All lovely. But for some reason I'm wanting the walnut trees to leaf out, the new green buds against the dark rugged bark. Not yet, though. Not yet.