Cambria court wash
April rain is rare on the California central coast, not being an"April showers brings May flowers" kind of place.
Blooms begin in February, during the fall and winter rain season. The .7 from this storm put our rain for the year at a little over 16 inches. That's a decent total during a drought year.
During our time on Pineridge we've swung from 42 inches to as little as 8. The coastal weather is vulnerable to ocean influence, mountains, and a high atmosphere intrigue called a Pacific Decadal Oscillation.
A spring moon on Pineridge may have helped turn on a cactus. Its bloom was dazzling.
An Oyster mushroom is back for a third harvest. A kit, given as a Christmas gift produced a batch of mushrooms and a surprising second batch. Even more suprisingly number three volunteered itself.
Lana's magic in the saute' pan was a fitting, even if a less beautiful disposition of the artful fungus. Delicious! As we've begun to return to the more robust style of pre pandemic life, a lot of folks have begun to say they feel aged, or unsettled by the last 2 years. A piece of life was held hostage, and now we attempt to come again to what was before, but we and life itself have been changed by it.
The simple rhythm of life has the assurance of normal, while absurdities of the human fall menace from our screens.
World leaders must task themselves to find a better way to prevent barbarism and aggression and to punish those who perpetrate it.
American voters certainly are wise to the soulless and ripping attack to the constitutional heart of the American system by the gang of cowards, liars, low-life, hustlers and haters who have stolen or who remain as condonation in the republican party.
Savoring the quiet life has distracted from the brutality of war crimes and the attack on our democratic republic.
In volunteer work this week I was fortunate to see lights of human decency. Our capacity to care, to serve and to be about common good is hopeful.
I'm coming to understand a constant.
As we probe more deeply into our majority years, we come upon truths of life in personal and cosmic ways. It is ever so.
We see now our good old days were myopic. As old girls and boys we tread in times of war, regressive ideas, uncertainty and threat. They were never far away in our middle years, nor have they ever been in the rise of humanity.
We are where those before us have been, wondering what is to become of humanity.
Life is always on a razor's edge.
Always spring comes and hope is alive.
And there is always dinner....
Peace
See you down the trail.
