We're in the midst of a stretch of (blessedly, in this era of climate change) season-appropriate marine layer so thick that we heard the familiar rumble of the Goodyear blimp for many minutes before it finally bobbed into hazy view.
With more time this morning I would have added a thought balloon above Walter's head filled with all of the complexity of his canine...oh who are we kidding?
It would say: ballballballBALLBALLballBALL!
Also, woof.
Sun setting last night, birds flying home, bats just emerging and Walter starts to growl. He's caught a scent, heard something on the ridge, and that's when these three appear.
After a few quiet weeks, coyotes. They're new here, large and strong and healthy and fearless. They sweep down to the flats and the canyon goes silent except Walter, the growl a sustained tone now.
They're eating up distance without breaking a trot, scanning as they move through the meadow. In a moment they're back up above and Walt's straining to chase, valiant if not very wise.
Here's one of our favorite walks in the hills above Trancas on March 22:
And here it was the day before yesterday:
Often enough on a weekend morning a road rally leads to Vintage Grocers at the Trancas shopping center.
Last week, amid all of the beautiful cars, this little lozenge of rolling chrome blew the rest of them out of the water.
It's already here, that summer feeling of soft air and high skies and bird voices more concerned with the fine points of territory than the blunt force of survival.
You're lured awake by early light, by the salt scent of the Pacific, the days longer yet time shorter, so much still to do.
I didn't realize until I downloaded the latest shots that one of our coyote neighbors has been hurt.
Media
|
Politics
|
|
LA Biz
|
Arts, Books & Food
|
LA Living
|
Sports
|