It does rain in Southern California and other things I have learned

Rain!   It was such a surprise and so thrilling to watch the front move in.   A frog started croaking its thanks in the garden.  For the ten minutes it lasted, it seemed that the dry earth sighed.  Everything smelled fresh.  Double rainbows appeared.  It was magical.

Relaxation is not just a mindset.  Visual and auditory stimulation from nature promote winding down and diminishing stress for me; escaping from all of the relaxation-zapping traps of home contributes too.

Pomegranates grow abundantly here.  I particularly like their beautiful color and their crowns that make them look like topsy-turvy royalty.  When they ripen on the trees they are jucier and have a richer taste.

Covey of quail are prevalent this time of year.  They seem to be large family groups and the dominant male tells everyone else what to do. He looks like a pear shaped old woman with a funny feathered hat and scurries about giving orders; not everyone pays attention when there are yummy bugs to eat in the dung heap!

Rabbits are everywhere! They blend into their environment, get into the flowers and are a nuisance; they still look cute.

Hummingbirds are larger here than their East Coast relatives. They get chilled at night and move more slowly in the cool mornings until the sun warms them. Then, you can hear the motoring of their tiny wings when they whiz by, heading for the next pollen stash.  Soon they will move far south for the winter months.

The sky and the changing light amaze me.The sun is brighter; the morning sun produces colors and patterns in the sky like I have never seen before.  Mid-day sun is much more intense and the afternoon light, as the sun sinks lower, produces pinks and oranges and a completely different view of the same scenery.

A praying mantis is such an interesting insect.  Its praying hands make it seem very special and deserving of some reverence.  It refused my offer of help when I picked it off the door and tried to place it on the adjacent bush; instead it crawled all the way up my arm and clung stubbornly to me.   I love how its face looks like an alien.

The original motor home owners, snails are considered pests.  They get to be quite large and come out  at night when it is cool.  They destroy plants.  Birds eat them.  I  like the way they leave footprints.

Every day produces another discovery.  I am excited to see what today brings!

Tuning in to Warning Signs

From the horse barn in Southern California

I don’t like snakes. The last time I encountered a live rattlesnake was in 1993 on Skyline Drive in Virginia; it was gigantic - at least 3 ½ feet long - and only 2 feet away from my then-six and nine year olds. Today’s experience was less frightening, but no less of a warning.

I was grooming Jet outside the stalls, with Laurel watching eagerly for her time to get attention, ears flickering back and forth, rubbing her face against the stall door and doing an inordinate amount of snorting. This is usual behavior when Mom gets attention and daughter feels slighted.

Jet, the Mom, was calm as usual as I brushed her coat and then got the tangles out of her mane and began on her tail. She stiffened and I thought maybe she was listening to the dogs barking in the distance, or the crow cawing in the nearby trees. I ignored it and she repositioned herself, backing up a little bit. She was no longer in her relaxed pose.

Laurel kept looking over to the other side of the barn, where the hay is stored and was a little bit uneasy. Again I ignored it.

The gardener walked up to the barn and in Spanish got my attention and pointed to the floor of the barn where a rattlesnake was not more than 12 feet from us, moving toward the hay bales in the back (where, until now, I reached with bare hands three times each day. Sure enough, the horses had noticed the snake and I had not.

I was really curious and had to see it up close.  He held it down with a shove while I inspected. Beautiful markings.  It was clearly a rattlesnake, but a small one.  He used the same shovel to keep it from bothering us again.

Again in Spanish, the gardener explained that he had found “dos mucho grande” snakes at another time. Knowing I did not understand his language, he held up two fingers to indicate the number, then stretched his arms apart to indicate the size and pointed to a place in the barn behind some equipment.  I made a face that made him laugh, while all I could think about was that I will use gloves to pick up hay from now on and be more attuned to where I am putting my hands and feet.

I also made a mental note never to go to the place where the dos big ones were extracted. And, I will listen more carefully to the horses, who knew danger was at hand and were trying to tell me.