Propagation of the Species

I work across the street from a public park that borders on marshlands, very near the actual Bay. The proximity of water and the tasty grasses in the marsh entice lots of birds to come visit and stay.

Among others, we have egrets, herons, spoonbills and sandpipers. All so elegant and beautiful.

Here's a rather grainy shot of a snowy egret, one of my favorite birds. This one usually keeps a beady eye on everyone walking by:

Many of the birds that we get in our beautiful marshes are on the endangered or near endangered species lists.

So it's good we have a nice habitat here for them.

That said, ya wanna know what bird isn't on any endangered list and is pretty much in zero danger of extinction?

Geese.

@#$%ing Canada Geese.

Or, as I like to call them, feathered poop factories.

Taken with my iPhone, this is by a walking trail:

That's not even a small portion of the inventory.

Here's a wider shot:

Again, to the left and right of this frame there are at least this same number if not more geese.

The one in the center of that photo charged at me, hissing, so I didn't take any more photos.

The geese eat grass, lots and lots of grass, then they process it internally and drop the leftovers right in the middle of the walking trails.

Their drop offs equal the size of the leavings of a large dog. Only a whole lot greener.

Just. Ew.

This morning coming into work, there was a goose right in the middle of the driveway (which is a long narrow single car path). The goose moved neither right nor left, but strutted right down the center of the lane. I counted ten cars in line behind while Mr. Goose waddled his way into the day.

I was in car number eleven.

These cranky birds have certainly figured out how to continue the prosperity of their species. In a big way.

My elderly uncle, unfortunately now deceased, used to shoot bottle rockets at the Canada geese that befouled the walkway in front of his house in Indiana.

They sort of frown on that here in California, don't they?

All photos by Karen Fayeth. Click on any photo to see a larger size.

Let All Who Pass Here Know

So let's say you and the spouse are talking, and you say "Hey honey, why don't we gather up the kids and make a trip to that happenin' place, San Francisco, Californey."

Why, it's an end-of-summer vacation destination.

And so you book the airline and find a hotel and plan your visit.

On behalf of the Bay Area, there's a few things we'd like you to know.

1) First, thank you. We are happy to have you come and visit! Please, spend your hard earned dollars in our economy. We could use the help.

2) We have some of the best food anywhere. Please stay away from the chain restaurants and try a local place. You'll be glad you did.

3) Everyone appreciates how difficult it is to navigate our geographically limited city located at the end of a peninsula, so don't be a'feared to ask for directions. Most locals have been lost here a few times too.

4) No one calls it "Frisco." Maybe a few people call it "San Fran." You could probably get by with an "S.F." Refer to San Francisco as "The City" and you'll be doing just fine.

5) Bring your camera and don't be shy about taking snaps. It's hard to take a bad photo.

6) Oh, and lastly and most importantly, this is what the weather is like in August:

Just for reference, the exif data on this photograph reports it was taken at 12:08:14 pm on Sunday, August 8, 2010. In case you can't tell, that's part of the north tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I'm just sayin'.

Don't pack your shorts, tshirts and a pair of flip-flops for a trip to "sunny California." Pack pants, socks and a jacket. You'll be glad you did.

Also, know this...San Francisco is one of the most beautiful cities you'll ever know.

Come on out ya'll! Enjoy! We're happy to have ya!

Photos by Karen Fayeth taken from the Marin side of the bridge. Many, many tourists were endured in the making of these and many other photographs.

(What all this language below means is that I took and I own the photographs posted here. If you'd like to borrow them, you have to do me the favor of giving me credit for the photo and posting a link back to this page. That's all. Fair enough? I think so.)

Word and images in this blog post titled "Let All Who Pass Here Know" by Karen Fayeth is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

Anyone for a Mojito?

So let's see, I moved to this odd and fascinating Golden State of California in 1997.

This is now 2010...

So that would make it...let's see, do the math...carry the one...

Ah yes. Thirteen years that I've lived here.

Thirteen. That's a lucky number!

And you'd think that in thirteen years I would have arrived at the place where I no longer pick hayseeds out of my hair.

You'd think.

But you'd be wrong.

What a yokel I am.

Here's the latest.

Brace yourself for another backyard adventure.

Today I was out in my side yard. There is this scrubby, invasive, grows too fast tree/bush thing out there that I *hate*.

It's so unlike me to have vitriol for something that is only a plant. But I do.

So I was out there hacking away at the damn thing because if I don't stay on top of it, soon it will grow taller than my roof and the neighbors will complain. It tends to invade the nextdoor neighbors yard as well.

Ticks me off.

So I trim the crap out of it.

Here's how it looks now:

Never fear, oh mighty plant lovers. In a month it will be back at roof height. Gawd I hate that thing!

Anyhoo. After I was done committing gross violence to a bush/tree type a deal, I looked down and saw a few huge weeds. Well...I had my gloves on and the ground was soft, so I started wiggling them durn weeds out by the root.

At one point, I noticed a row of different looking weeds growing from the crack where the outside wall of the house meets concrete.

So I gave them a hearty tug.

Suddenly, all I could smell was this minty odor. I smelled my hands. Leather gloves and mint.

Weird.

So I took a small plant sample inside so I could Google it.

Sure enough. We have mint growing wild in our yard

I have no idea where this came from and I don't recall mint growing in the yard before. It just, I don't know, appeared out of nowhere this year.

Look, I'm from New Mexico. I'm used to coaxing things to grow in the yard with a lot of vigor and pleading.

Not here. This sh*t just grows wild! There ya go! Something magical. Didn't even have to try.

Next up on the list of fruits ripening in my untended backyard:

Figs!

Yes! Love fresh figs.

I'm ready for 'em!

Anyhow. This has been a very big day. Maybe I need a nap.

Oh, and in closing...this for my friend Natalie who likes bird of paradise.

That's a biggun!

I swear to god that thing blooms all year long. That shouldn't happen. And yet..it does.

The Power of Evaporative Cooling

You know, growing up in the high desert, the weather gets hot. Real hot, like high nineties and occasionally slipping up over 100 degrees.

And people joke all the time about, "well at least it's a dry heat!"

And inevitably someone will make a scoffing noise and say that "dry heat" doesn't matter.

I'm here to say...it matters.

It matters to me, anyway.

About three weeks ago, I was in Las Cruces.

The temperatures hovered in the high eighties, touching 90 at one point. The humidity was 7%.

It was fantastic!

I basked. I was like a salamander on a rock. I looooved every moment of it.

Yesterday, in the part of the Bay Area where I live, it topped out at a bold 77 degrees.

Yes, just a small 77 degrees.

With 84% humity.

I almost died.

Well, ok, no. I didn't almost die. But I felt like I was gonna.

Look, the human body was made to be an evaporative cooling device.

You sweat, either the wind blows across the sweat or the air evaporates it, or, ideally, both, and your body manages to maintain a good temperature.

Add an indoor a/c unit and a glass of iced tea into the mix, and those warm summer days are quite tolerable!

At almost eighty degrees with NOTHING helping me dry the sweat and every frappin' place I go (including my own home) has NO air conditioning (zero, ziltch, nada)...well, I had only a cool glass of iced tea to get through the day.

It wasn't enough.

I. Was. Miserable.

I actually was *grateful* for the fog rolling in around 4:00. Thank gawd for that Bay Area temperature inversion that I usually curse!

As sweat poured off of me, I could feel the wind ahead of the fog and the temps dropped fast and I enjoyed the peace I hadn't been able to find all day.

Today promises much of the same. I shall position myself directly in front of a fan and not move around much.

The Good Man likes to tease....."Oh you, my Woman of the Desert*...where's your heat tolerance now?"

It's back where it might be very, very hot...but at least it's a dry heat!

*That's a reference to the book "The Alchemist" which I found neither spiritual nor interesting. The main female characters says that about herself...a lot. "I am a Woman of the Desert"....yeah. Whatever, sister. I am a Woman of the Red Couch. Hear my Cheetos roar.

Dear Mother Nature,

As you know, over the years you and I have enjoyed an especially close relationship. You bring me the sun and the ocean and endless blue skies. You are in charge of all that is outdoors that I love and enjoy.

And you do a fine job of it, don't get me wrong.

Being a woman as you are, we all know that we ladies can be prone to *moods*, and that is to be expected. Fickle moods. Cranky moods. Just...moods.

Over the years I've forgiven a lot of your more extreme bouts of moodiness.

Remember the time I had to dive into a wet alfalfa field because you struck the telephone pole I was walking past with a big blast of lightening?

Yeah. I forgave.

Remember I cried my eyes out in the winter of 1997 (that so called El Niño winter) because I thought it would never stop raining?

Remember that time I drove to Silver City, New Mexico on the hottest day of the year? My car was overheating, so I had to turn on the heater to help keep it cool enough to finish the trip, and when I arrived, I realized I'd sweated through all of my clothing?

That wasn't fun.

But I've been able to let by gones be by gones.

You are entitled to be a little whimsical now and again. Heck, enjoy yourself!

But this year...well, I think it's time we have a serious talk.

You *might* need to seek professional help for this schizophrenic behavior you are exhibiting.

It's sunny, it's rainy, it's too hot, then it's too cold.

You can't seem to make up your mind, alternating between sunny and rainy on a given day!

Ma'am, today is the frapping twenty seventh day of May.

May. You remember? Spring?

When the birds sing and the sun shines and a (straight) young man's fancy turns towards young ladies in short skirts?

No one wears short skirts in the drenching rain!

Um. Look. I just did my toes and they are a fabulous shade of melon pink. I want to show them off.

When it's fiercely raining and yes, HAILING outside, I can't show of my fabulously painted toes because they are covered by my wellies.

Ok, look. I understand that living in Northern California means ya gotta accept the rain. I get that. But c'mon! Can't you give a desert born and raised girl a break?

And let's talk about my friends in places like Utah and Colorado who are getting SNOW?

Look sister, you need to get a hold of yourself!

Might I remind you that this weekend is Memorial Day? Hot dogs and cookouts and the beginning of summer fun?

So why *exactly* is there rain and snow in the forecast?

You know, they make meds that can help this condition.

Why don't I make you an appointment? Maybe some talk therapy will help you work out your issues.

I'm here to support you. Just so you know...I'm a much more supportive friend in the sunshine.

I'm just saying.

(bonus points if you remember the tagline from this commercial)

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Evaporation!

Everywhere you turn....

Ok, I suppose some things are hard coded into my system. Cellular level and all.

Today promises to be a very warm day where I live. I woke up this morning and it was already getting hot, and so my mind thought, "hmm, wonder if it is too early to think about getting the swamp cooler set up."

And then I remembered...I don't live in the desert anymore.

Oh and by the way, evaporative cooling doesn't work worth a damn where it's humid.

Oh yeah. Whoops.

This all reminded me of when I looked for my first apartment in Northern California.

In Albuquerque I'd lived in a very large one-bedroom apartment up on the east end of Menaul. I was on the fourth floor and had a rocking view of the Sandias. Many of my utilities were taken care of, and I paid $550.

I was now looking at spending $1200 a month on a teeny tiny dark apartment in a crap neighborhood. And pay for it out of a salary that was only $5k more than I was making in Albuquerque.

Yeah. That was bad. But what I remember most was touring a pretty nice place that was in my price range (less than $1000 a month). It was clean, smallish, but suitable. It was a warm day down in the South Bay, and I inquired, "where is the air conditioner?"

The landlord responded that there wasn't one.

NO AIR CONDITIONER!?!?! WHAT!?!?!?

I mean, to a girl from New Mexico, this is certain death! You don't NOT have an air conditioner!!!

The landlord further explained that really, it's not necessary. The really hot days are few and the wind off the Bay and the ocean keeps it cool.

I was skeptical.

Thirteen years later, I've still never lived in a place that had an air conditioner. Admittedly, there have been some still, hot days where I yearned for the simple beauty of a swamp cooler. On those days, I stay longer at work to soak up their climate control.

So while my home is a/c free, my car does have cooling. I won't own a car that doesn't, though I have friends who saved a few bucks by leaving that off. No way.

I have a vague feeling this is going to be a long, hot summer in the Bay Area where the tunnel of fans The Good Man sets up won't quite be enough.

But then, when it gets that hot, the next day the fog rolls in over the hills and dampens the whole day and you freeze your tukhus off.

Ah...summer in the Bay Area. Swamp Coolers not required.

Want some cheese to go with that whine?

Lord knows, I've been prone to giving over to a deep, hearty kvetch about living here in the Bay Area, and these marine layer weather patterns this Flower of the Desert must face.

Ok, fine, I own it.

However, today, I'm here to say that all the wet weather actually *does* have some benefits. Occasionally even *I* can find a place of gratitude for all of that goddamn rattin' smattin' essential rain.

See, The Good Man and I are renters, and as such, aren't required to take care of our yard. Good thing, too...cuz we'd have grass a mile high.

My landlord and his son do yard work that's mainly limited to cutting the grass every few weeks and chopping down nice trees that never did nothing to nobody. But that's another story.

So over on the side of our humble abode, we have this:

It may be hard to see, but that's a little spindly tree.

I mean...it's pretty sad. Look at this puny little trunk:

What you should know about that little tree is that no one really does much of anything with it. We don't water it. We don't prune it. We hardly look at it. It's just "that tree" over by where we store the trashcans.

I've occasionally photographed the tree when it puts on white flowers, working on my macro skills. But other than that, it goes totally ignored.

Well. This year, the little tree that decided to get noticed.

This year, that son-of-a-gun put on a crapload of fruit. Apricots.

I've lived here five years. That tree has never, not once, put on fruit. It would flower, halfheartedly, but that's it.

For some reason, even in a fairly dry Bay Area winter, that little spindly tree got enough water and sun and nutrients to fill its skinny little boughs with fruit.

Wow.

And it's tasty fruit too! VERY delicious. Boy, I do love a good juicy and tart apricot in the summertime.

I remember my college roommate's mom would put up a fantastic apricot jam...that she'd serve on top of homemade biscuits. Oh my.

So ok, I whine. I jump up and down. I tantrum. I complain that I am a convection-cooled device (a human swamp cooler) finely tuned to the high desert and cannot possibly be expected to properly function in this humidity.

Then I bite into a ripe, juicy apricot and I think, "Hey, all that rain is not so bad!"

Conservationism is hogwash

I know, I know. Heresy to say such a thing the day after Earth Day, but I'm saying it.

Ok, let me be a bit more specific.

Water and electric conservation is poppycock.

I'm mad. Can you tell?

I'll tell you why in two stories.

One from several years back. One from a couple days ago that got my ire all up again.

First story. Electricity.

You may recall in the early 2000's, California was going through a power crisis during the hot summer months.

We were subject to brownouts and rolling blackouts. Which is just a nice way of saying, "oooops, your power is out, we did it on purpose."

Then-Governor Gray Davis challenged all of us to conserve power with the threat of increased power rates. It was a rallying cry. Stores turned off half or more of their lights. The Bay Bridge and Golden Gate went dark (turned off the accent lights, kept the roadway lights on), and I personally worked really hard to use less energy.

What happened?

The state of California conserved 11% energy. ELEVEN PERCENT!! That is a HUGE number.

We were then rewarded by the news that the power companies were corrupt, our overuse was never the issue, and rates went up, by a lot, to offset the crisis.

Conserving power meant nothing. Nothing. We paid more anyway.

Second story. Water.

It's been noted in the news recently that California is having an especially dry year. Our reservoirs are a bit low. We didn't get the snow pack that those that know would like to see.

So in Santa Clara County, they have enacted conservation...with the threat of raising rates.

And the people and businesses are doing it. They are conserving.

On the radio Tuesday, I heard a report that conservation has worked SO well that the water company hasn't been bringing in enough billing revenue to sustain their beleaguered business model.

So they are going to raise rates, anyway.

Working so hard to conserve water meant NOTHING.

This concept of voluntary conservationism is useless and a bunch of bullhockey! Don't threaten or coerce me. If you are just going to raise my rates then go ahead and raise my rates. That will get me to use less, I promise!

Any first year business student can draw for you the chart showing supply and demand. And price is a factor in demand. A BIG factor.

You raise rates, people will want to pay less, they will use less and conservation of resources happens.

This jimmy-jacking around, blaming the victim, telling me I'm a bad consumer and must use less or bad things will happen...so then I use less and bad things happen anyway?

By the by...I already use so little water and so little power as to be laughable. I turn off lights, I unplug appliances, I use Energy Star. My bills stay pretty low.

So no. I'm done. I'm done trying really hard to conserve even more, only to be rewarded by higher rates anyway.

Done!

/rant

Spare MY Air please!

Another Spare the Air day in the hazy, blisteringly hot Bay Area.

Yesterday afternoon, needing a break from the desk and recycled indoor air conditioning. I went outside to take a walk and didn't last long. The block ahead of me lay in wavering smoky haze and the heat was oppressive.

This morning I walked to the train station and felt a distinct burning in my throat. Given that my dad suffered a terminal lung disease, these sort of burning lung moments do not give me humor.

The local paper is reporting more of the same.

Ugh.

Image via.

I wanna be supportive, I really do.

Due to gas costs and the mental toll that commute-time driving extracts from me, I've been riding the train a lot recently. Today, for a variety of reasons, I needed to drive, so I took my trusty hoopty out on the road.

And as I cruised along (at, yes, the speed limit) I observed a blue Prius cut me off, then slow down.

As I stifled the curse words and angry gestures (yes, I actually *did* pay attention to that driver's ed course I took and passed), I wondered to myself, quite bluntly, "Why are Prius people always such crappy drivers?"

I know, broad generalizations are never accurate, but go with me on this, for a minute.

So yes, I live in hola-granola, tree-hugging, skunk-kissing Northern California. Which means there are a lot of fans of that little gas sipping automobile. Fundamentally, I have no problem with the Prius. If the financials could bear it out (meaning the premium they charge for that car more than offsets the cost at the pumps) I might even consider one. I can be environmentally conscious, I really can.

Here in the Bay Area, people who drive hybrid vehicles can get a special sticker that allows them to drive in the car pool lane even if there is only one person in the car. So that has definitely helped boost their popularity.

So there are a lot of little Prisuseseses (what exactly IS the plural of Prius?) on the roads out here. There are a lot of other hybrid and electric vehicles too, but today I'm talkin' about the Prius people.

I've checked in with many friends. Their experience matches my own. Something about the Prius drivers is off. Is it bad visibility? Is it the alternate way they have to drive (coasting to build up a charge)? Is it the kind of person who chooses to own one? I don't know, but I've observed some truly crappy driving behind the wheel of these little wonders.

Like a lot of changing lanes rapidly and slowing down. I'll attribute that to the coasting, I guess. A lot of not looking or signaling before changing lanes. Is it hard to see in those things? And a lot of driving real slow in the fast lane.

I haven't observed this as much with other environmental cars, just the Prius.

What's up with that? I mean, when I read the news report that Al Gore's kid was popped by CHP doing 100 in his Prius, I thought "well, there's hope yet!" But perhaps all the drugs had changed his view (…and I can't support that).

I'm all for assisting the environment by using less fossil fuels (this after reading, with horror, about the "milky rain" in Silver City and the Gila) but damnitall! Let's keep it safe out there, ok?

Meanwhile, I'm doing my own part by taking the train as often as possible. Good for the environment, good for my sanity.

Thus ends my rant.

Time for my calmness affirmations…..."breathe in…..breathe out…."



Image via.