This field of baby blue eyes shows the scorched area of the Chalk Fire. That is Cone Peak in the background.
These are the baby blue eyes, a little closer up. I have one more hillside of baby blues to add to this post later tonight, if possible.
Category: Living in the Wilderness
What I learned today …
Never buy ice cream when the wildflowers are going OFF! It will be a gooey mess when one gets home.
Photos of the wildflowers later. The gooey mess I am trying to salvage in the freezer.
Before one of today’s wildflower shots, this from NOAA’s discussion: ” RAIN SHOWERS STILL APPEAR A GOOD BET MONDAY
INTO TUESDAY WITH TEMPERATURES WELL BELOW NORMAL. POTENTIAL TO PICK UP SOME BENEFICIAL LATE SEASON RAIN WITH LOW SNOW LEVELS IN THE SIERRAS."
I have an orphan
Four or five days ago, my feral cat had kittens in my old, non-running Rover. I thought it was a good, safe place, but for whatever reason, Mama did not, and moved the kittens. All but one. When it had been alone for six hours, with no sign of mama, I rescued it. Mocha is living in a box with me, being bottle-fed. The one and only time I tried this before, I wasn’t successful, but I did not have the special milk nor bottles then. I do now. Maybe I will succeed this time. Maybe not. maintaining the 90 degree temperature required is impossible. All I can do is keep her covered up, and hope.
Weather Report, Top ‘o the World, 3/9/09
Cloudy and cold. Forecast discussion is dropping the temps for tonight, with a possible freeze warning, but little chance of rain. When it is this cloudy, and this cold, I think I’d rather have the rain!
In honor of Barbie’s 50th birthday, a friend sent me this photograph of the Big Sur Mountain Mama version. So, I post it here, with permission, for a chuckle.
Blessed and Humbled
I am so blessed, and so humbled. Dakota is ALIVE!
I found her locked up in a storage trailer. No food, no water, but safe from mountain lions and the rain she hates.
I am pretty deaf. Dakota helps me hear. She wasn’t here to help me, and she hasn’t trained the others. I will wager that will change.
I am blessed and I am humbled. Personally, I don’t like drama, I like comedy. Dakota is back, and that is what is important.
To all of those drawn into my drama, I apologize. And for all my friends who supported me through a very tough time, I am more grateful than you can know.
But more than anything, my blessed Dakota is with my physical being, as well as my spiritual one.
Damn, life in the wilderness can be dramatic.
Healing …
… is a funny thing. Tonight, I find myself smiling at all the wonderful memories I have of Dakota, almost as much as I cry. I remember what happened on Saturday morning, and realize that she was a warrior dog, protecting her pack.
And the pack is busy reassigning her various roles. Believe it or not, Dakota, after just a few times watching me, took over the role of picking the ticks off her puppies, Miranda and Bear. Now, that role is mine, once again. Miranda, the female, has taken over Dakota’s job of sleeping in my bed. The problem is, Miranda snores. Dakota did not. Bear, her male puppy, is the only one who has the warrior’s heart, like Dakota. I am waiting to see if he assumes the role of protecting the pack. And Gideon? Well, Gideon is like the male lion. He is mostly for show. He is loving, and beautiful, with a lion’s mane. But courage? Protection? Those aren’t his strong points. He is more of a clown and people-pleaser. He would take over the bed routine, but with his long hair, I prefer the only other short hair in the pack besides Dakota.
It helped me tremendously to find my favorite photograph of Dakota. Now, I can see her whenever I choose. It also helped to have received SO many expressions of care and condolences from my friends, near and far. I treasure the understanding so many of you offered in private emails.
Some may think that my loss was not great. “She was only a dog.” I never heard from those people. I heard from “dog people” who know that these pets are like our children. These loses are monumental.
But tonight, finally, I can look at her photograph, which is now my computer desktop, and smile at the love and beauty and laughter she brought me. Her spirit lives in the memories I have, as Sandy so eloquently put it in her poem.
And maybe, as Diane said, when it is my time to go, she will be there to greet me, with that smile of hers — oh, yes, she smiled — and that wagging tail, and that gentle pawing she did when she wanted my attention. I am so very lucky to have had her share her joy with me for as long as she did.
Thank you, everyone, for your support these past three days, and I promise, more joyful — or at least factual — posts to follow. And thank you for allowing me to publicly express my grief in this blog.
And damn, I might have to post more about my other three dogs, too, and friends, and family, and music and art. You know, all the things that matter in life. It is just too short. Give a fur kid a hug for me, will ya’?
In Memory of Dakota
This is the photo I so love of her. I had lost it on my computer, but fortunately, I had previously posted this to my blog, and was able to download it, and recover it for my files. She was such a beautiful dog, and such a great companion for six years.
And from my friend, Sandy Krenkel who sent me this yesterday:
For Dakota
Into our lives they come
Bounding with joy & love
Their spirits creep into our souls
They are a gift from above
They don’t come
With any guarantees
They do bring un-conditional
Acceptance that’s totally free
Some bring us confidence
And help our self-esteem
Others are sent to teach us
A specific lesson it seems
Their eyes made us feel special
Their wagging tails made us smile
Yes, they brought great joy
If, only for awhile
We risk it all
When we love so deep
But with no risk
No memories to keep.
SK 2/22/09
Big Daddy
Big Daddy, originally uploaded by wind_dancer.
The weather is balmy, it is beautiful. No rain in the foreseeable forecast. Unless there are more announcements, I have nothing to write about. So, instead, I offer my readers, one of the many blessings I am honored to be receive.
One of the many, many treasures I get to experience is the surprise Mother Nature provides. These elk (and note the BIG bull in the middle) are just some of the surprises I find in my “town” trips.
There were over 20 elk in this herd, and if you click on the photo, it will take you to my flickr posting, which has another photo of some of the herd. And here is some information about these elk:
The Tulle Elk can only be found in parts of central California. The Tulle Elk is smaller in size that the other species. An adult bull often tips the scales at 600 pounds or less while a cow typically weighs 300 to 350 pounds. The adult cows average 375-425 lbs (McCullough, 1969). The yearlings (spike bulls) average the same weight as the adult females. The coats are a light buffy beige with a darker brown long haired mane circling the necks of both the males and females. The calves are similar to regular deer calves, with a light brown spotted coat. All animals display a prominent white rump.
They average 7 feet in length and stand 4-5 feet in height at the shoulder. The male yearlings are also known as spikes, during their first year of antler growth they only have one antler that is very thin and spindly compared to the large six point racks that the dominant males demonstrate. The females do not have antlers and the males drop theirs annually which re-grow a little larger with more tines as the yearling ages.
The Tule Elk thrive in the moderate Mediterranean climate and subsequent vegetation type in its native range. The Tule Elk forage on annual grasses such as the red brome and cheatgrass, as well as the perennial forbs like, globe mallow, and wild licorice. In addition, alfalfa is also very important to the herd’s diet.
Fall
The chilly mornings of November are here — the times of hot cocoa and soup at night, and that first steaming cup of coffee in the morning. I’ve always loved Fall. But then I love Winter, Spring, and Summer, too. Each season casts its spell on me. Each has its own brand of special.
Fall can bring crisp, cold mornings, and sunny, warm afternoons. The leaves are turning and falling. My blessed Valley Oaks (Qercus lobatas) begin their winter hibernation, opening up their canopies so that the sun seeks the ground. The sun is lower in the southern sky as we rapidly approach the shortest day of the year.
Between now and December 21, 2008, I watch the daylight hours become shorter, so that the day seems over before it has begun. I watch the dogs fluff out with their winter coats. I enjoy the snuggling in the warmth of my down comforter, recently revamped with a new duvet cover.
This Fall, I will be staying closer to the home front, and probably only seeing my North Coast friends at Thanksgiving. The highway is too “iffy” this year. I am used to rock slides, mud, and changing conditions on Highway One. But this year is different. Too many variables, and some of them not even that variable.
We know the highway will close – probably several times in several places. I need to winterize my Jeep — you know, put a sleeping bag, a pillow, flashlight and emergency supplies in it. I need to be able to spend the night in it, if called upon to do so.
Fall: it is the time I finish my preparations for winter, and I have little time in which to complete them. Living close to nature like this is not like living in town. The seasons carry their messages much louder and clearer for us, here in the wilderness.
Yes, Fall. I am listening.
**********************************************************************************************************
Also, Charles Bell of the NWS in Monterey is asking for our participation in the Community Collaborative Rain, Hail and Snow Network (CoCoRaHS) is now in California! This volunteer-driven program will allow people the chance to enter precipitation data on a daily basis and have the information immediately displayed on a web site (http://www.cocorahs.org/State.aspx?state=CA).
It requires a special 4″ rain gauge and training. The program is explained at the link above. Happy reporting, everyone!!
My pack …
My dogs are going off, this morning. Hunters stalking around, is my guess. Last day of hunting season, and we haven’t been shot, yet.
My dogs have learned their jobs well. Gideon v. Wainwright, Gideon or Gid Kid, for short, is the leader and the papa. He is a border collie/australian shepard mix. With that combo, he is a herder. He will herd cars, bicycles, motorcycles, and people on foot. I got him from the pound, so he had to be neutered, only things went wrong. He went into cardiac and respiratory arrest. The vet saved him, and he saved his balls. It cost me a bundle, but he was worth it.
Look at those eyes. Can’t you just see how intelligent he is?
He needed a partner, so I found an ad for a Queensland Heeler mix puppy, and we set off to meet Dakota. She was a feisty one, and neither was too sure about the other. Dakota is all heeler, too, even though she is the only one in her litter that took on the characteristics of her unknown papa.
She has beautiful lines, long legs, and boy can she run!!
Isn’t she beautiful?
Then, as critters are prone to do, they mated. The first litter was a whopping TEN. Dakota only has nine teats, so it was a challenge raising all ten, but we did. I found homes for eight, and kept two, a male and a female. Now, I truly had a pack.
Sweet, sweet Bear, the male puppy.
Miranda v. Arizona (Miranda for short), the female puppy.
These dogs are all working dogs, and they take their jobs seriously. They can hear someone at the gate, 1/2 a mile away. They herd or heel any one who comes on the property. And do it well. To “heel” a vehicle, the heeler dogs (3) will bite at tires and grab onto mud flaps. My friend, Prospector, loves his new SUV, and hates when the dogs bite his mud flaps. He developed a technique that works quite well. He carries a bottle of hot sauce, and splashes it on his mud flaps. My ex has a yellow lab that is much bigger than my pack, and he runs around the truck, keeping my dogs away. JP hasn’t figured it out, yet, although I demonstrated that a squirt gun works well to keep them off his truck.
Up here, in the middle of the wilds of Big Sur, dogs are mandatory. Maybe not four, but with four, I have a good pack. They keep the deer away, the hunters away, and I have not seen a rattlesnake since I’ve had all four. They are a great team.