Thursday, February 05, 2009

Among the leafless oaks

I was thinking of posting without photos this time. I have been pondering if indeed a picture is worth a thousand words. Books seem to make my imagination fly better than photographs; some paintings do that too. I have been thinking about this because on my last stay at the cabin, sitting on the porch at dusk, it was clear to me that no picture could describe such a moment. The delicious gradation of colors in the sky from dark blue to purple and pink; the gnarly silhouette of the leafless oaks; the hoarse barking of a dog in the distance; the crispness of the Sierra Nevada's fresh air; the stars beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky; the sweet smell of the wood fire burning in the stove inside; the insects flying madly about the lights. Try and capture that with a photograph.

I feel incredibly lucky sitting on that porch. Such beauty and peace, all just for me. I've told friends about the place (tried hard not to brag,) invited them but surprisingly, very few have come up. I guess nobody's got time for peace and beauty anymore. It's OK though, I've made good friends up there already. People who show up with a wood splitter and cut down your logs to size for your stove, without you asking. People who help you replace your water heater. Help is the wrong word, they do it all. People who help with your first time dealing with a water pump or a swamp cooler. People who take time to sit down with you and chat about big and small things. Real people.

Sitting on the porch and selfishly enjoying the moment, I couldn't help but think about these hard times. Me-me-me and nobody else probably has a lot to do with it. A bigger car, bigger house, bigger TV, bigger lips. The Olympics of me, myself and I. Me and screw everybody else to an unsustainable level. Money, money, money, or at least, the appearance of it. That needed a correction. Problem is, some folks were just going along working hard and honest, not spending foolishly, and they pay the price too. I'm from the Old World which means I'm not a flag-waving, this is God's country American and yes, some people here remind me of the Taliban but good thing, I've found that a lot of people don't buy that poison. My neutral observation is that this is a country built by hard work, and resourceful, clever, rational people who don't take no for an answer but find new ways. It's true, this is the country of Can Do. This is the closest thing to the Promised Land even though milk and honey don't flow freely.

Yes, we're in this for a while, and there are more bad times a-coming but everything is cyclical, for every action there's a reaction and tomorrow the sun will rise, people will get married, babies will be born and we'll get together with friends. Older folks know that, they've already lived it a few times. Alright, enough talk. Here's my visual record of my weekend up the Sierra Foothills.

I drove up with Jorgy, pictured at the bottom of this post. Jorgy loves space, peace and quiet, and his friends Badger, Trigger and Heidi. He also likes the occasional wandering canine. I guess they always smell interesting to him. Anyway, winter is a time when the Tule fog covers California's Central Valley. Problem is, the more it goes, the more it looks like smog. Arvin, a little town I drive though on my way up has the worst air in the nation. Click on the picture below for what I saw approaching the Grapevine.



I drove the Lion's Trail and because of the higher elevation, the air is cleaner. Dieu merci.



Some of the bad air made its way almost to the basin, trying to get up the mountains but the sky was blue as it always is.



We arrived at the cabin and got settled which means first starting a fire, then turning the water on, lighting the water heater , putting some music on, setting out chairs, hanging the welcome doodad on the door, the wind chime on the rafters, straightening things up, preparing our dinners and watching night fall. I know you're thinking rough schedule. Of course, all this time Jorgy was busy going around spraying every bush on the property, leaving a message to everybody that he's in town so come and vist. The photo below shows one of the sisters in winter. I noticed some mistletoe in its branches and I will cut it off. I don't care what the experts say, it will kill an oak tree. I have pictures.





The next day, I had some work to do: varnish the last wall of logs with a water repellent. Before I did that though, I decided to go walk around the pond. On my way, I saw some neighbors going about their chores, a true picture of the joy of home ownership.



I noticed on my way that the creek at the SSP was flowing nicely. Good. That meant the pond is getting water and yes, the pond looked beautiful, like a woman with fleshy lips, fuller and with a twinkle in the eye. In this case, photos do a pretty good job.







Hi Jorgy! He hates water but he loves the pond.







I'll finish with a photo of my faithful companion, Jorgy. We stayed Sunday night and left very early Monday morning so I could get to work on time. As always, he tried to stay so I had to be stern with him and almost grab him by the collar but he resigned himself with a few heavy sighs and got in the car. Don't worry Jorgy, we'll be back soon.

Come, Jorgy! I know, it would be fun to stay but we can't. We'll be back soon, I promise.