The video is Yosemite but it is much like this on the drive over to the coast.
We drove to the coast this weekend and even though I live in a pancake flat, no-water-for-farming world where spring has come and gone–one day my fruit trees were all stick-like and the next day they were filled with blossoms and now fruit has set on and I have to go out with a bat and do some serious whacking. My grapevines, which just run hither and yon and the back fence–the little leaves are unfurling. A good sign, since the leaves make the canopy for the grapes and as soon as they show color, it is forty days to harvest. My fruit trees, too, will start coming on in June and by July, I will be knee deep in apricots, peaches and plums.
My daffodils and lily of the valley have come and gone and the flower beds are bare. No idea what I’ll plant or if I’ll plant. Maybe the ground needs to rest a little.
So we are driving over to Morro Bay, thru Kettleman City (there are two Kettlemans–one is the tiny little migrant town and the other one is right off I-5 where In-And-Out is. People on the freeway probably never see the real Kettleman, which isn’t much except real. I’ve never even stopped at the In-And-Out, only because it looks like everyone in LA is either inside, in the drive-up or in the parking lot.
Once you get past Kettleman. you are driving thru the rolling hills that start the 90 minutes or so of the Coast Range, separating the Central Valley from the ocean. It was as green as Ireland this weekend and the wildflowers were out in full force. We saw acres of snowdrops flung up against the rolling green hills, miles of lupines and wild mustard with it’s bright blowzy yellow. Huge drifts of tiny violets and and then splashes of California poppies. Miles of fiddle head, which from a distance looks as if it might be poppies, but fiddle head is more a little yellow, where the poppies are huge splashes of the most incredible, thin petaled orange orange.
The sheep are almost full out, nibbling weeds down, with their one Basque shepherd and his dog.
And deer! Usually I will see small little herds of dear up in the oaks, closer to Astascadera, but I saw herds of well over a hundred and Tule Elk, as well.
Once we got over to the beach, it was foggy and nippy. We could see sailboats out on the water (that will stop in June–the water is too rough that whole month for getting out of the bay). We are having some work done and it seems like the guy is not nearly as eager to finish as we are to have him out of the way.
We have a small piece of yard that runs under the cantilevered side of the house. I usually have to crawl between the fence and the house, pulling the weeds and dragging them out. This year, with my torn up shoulder, I just can’t. Mike was all set to do it and I wouldn’t let him—only because he just had a stroke and if he had another one, the poor paramedics would have to crawl in, tie a rope to his feet and haul him out. So I called a gardener guy to come do it. I never thought in my life I would need help for such a brainless chore.
In fact, the real thing I like about gardening, besides buying seeds and tossing them out like Jack and his beans, is the Zen of weeding. No one wants to help and no one wants to watch for fear of being asked to help. And no one wants to come out and talk to me, for fear of being asked to help. It is the soul
sole moment of my life, when i can quiet the noise in my head.
And lately, that noise has been the kind that keeps you awake all night long.
So I need my little yard back.