Learned in February

Did I learn anything in February of this year?

Maybe.

  • Spectrum is giving Huge & Rude a run for their money. We want to switch: landlines, television, internet. As with everything, it is easy-peasy when you talk to a salesman but muy complicated in reality. So far, we are still with Huge & Rude, and our phones have been out multiple times in 2019. Plus, the internet is too slow to send my wildflower book to the printer.
  • Books are never quick. Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names is supposed to be in hand for an April 27 signing. No matter how many times I proof or pass it to someone else to proof, another error gets found. And it got bid as a black and white book instead of a full color one – ouch.
  • Parkas aren’t waterproof – nylon, goretex, nope. 4 different ones within the past 32 years. Polyester might be waterproof. Probably not. My walking buddy and I have had lots of opportunities to test various parkas during February.
  • Seaglass is getting harder to find and the pieces are smaller. This decline in availability will continue. I learned this from reading The Ultimate Guide to Sea Glass by Mary Beth Beuke.
  • In order to better publicize a book, authors should have a website (oh-oh, my books are hitch-hiking along with my art sites) with a media kit. It took almost an entire day to write all the little parts and pieces required for this, but now I have one on my other website, The Cabins of Wilsonia. This is all required in order to be considered to make a presentation to the Fresno County Friends of the Library about my book The Cabins of Wilsonia. Yeppers, I have a Media Kit page on that site, which will serve as a model for Mineral King Wildflowers.
  • I am a Questioner. This is how I learn. Here is a question: Who wants to go from Bakersfield to Merced, or the reverse direction? That’s what California’s infamous bullet train is now reduced to. I will probably ride it, if they allow 100 year olds on.
  • Did you know that corn will kill us? I got snagged into one of those click-bait websites with the line of “which vegetable do you need to stop eating immediately?” Then the dude talked forever about his various credentials before finally saying it was corn. Sure, Mr., thanks. I saved you the temptation of following that link and waiting to hear which vegetable will kill you. You’re welcome.


Now I need soothing, and perhaps you do too. In fact, let’s change gears entirely and I’ll show you a lovely late afternoon of feeding cattle from the back of a little ATV with the Captain.

They heard the machine and all headed right toward us.
Can’t remember (or tell from this photo) if this was The Bull. I was so enchanted by the golden late afternoon light that I forgot to be scared. Besides, don’t bulls have horns?
I know nothing except that cow poo is very slippery.
I’ve been warned many times to not trust Brahma Mama, and now that she has a calf, to be especially careful. Not sure what that means when standing around tossing flakes of hay toward her.
Look at these little beeves! (Is that the plural of beef?)
This blondie might not have any teeth, which is why she prefers eating the little bits that have fallen into the back of the machine. Her ears look soft, but she doesn’t want them touched.
My view from the so-called “safe” place inside the machine. I love this light.

And thus we conclude another February, a month that I find way too short here in Central California.

Early Spring in Three Rivers

February is my favorite month around here. It is the beginning of spring, with apologies to my readers in less temperate climates, who might be a little less enthusiastic about this month. Sometimes I take a break in the middle of the day to enjoy Three Rivers during this exciting weather period.

Upstream view of the middle fork of the Kaweah River from the Dinely Bridge.
Downstream view of same.
Before retirement, Trail Guy wore green pants with a gray shirt. Now, he wears the opposite.
A regular peculiar sight on the Dinely Bridge.
Primary colors in my yard, and some bright sunshine in the middle of a rainy day.
Back in the studio, listening to pouring rain on my metal roof.
The flowering quince outside the kitchen window attracts birds. More accurately, it is the bird feeder that attracts them.
Here is a different kind of bird. I am more interested in flower names than bird names.

Every year I ask this unanswerable question: Why can’t February have 31 days instead of August?

The Lake as a Metaphor

Prepare yourself for a long essay today. I hope you can recover from this major bloviation by tomorrow when I post about early spring in Three Rivers. Yes, I still work . . . you can see more paintings in progress next week. But February is my favorite month, so for now I am choosing to show you the beauty of Three Rivers instead of paintings in progress.

While at Kaweah Lake recently with Trail Guy, it occurred to me that our lake can serve as a metaphor for life in Tulare County. Think about these comparisons.

Tulare County is in the Central Valley, California’s “flyover country”, meaning the part people just blow through or over to get where they really want to go, like San Francisco, Napa Valley, Los Angeles, Death Valley, or Yosemite (“Oh dear, must we first go to Fresno? horrors!”). 

While puttering around on the lake bottom (more around the edges, because it has been filling up lately), I thought of all the people flying past on the highway above, probably unaware of what the lake below has to offer. Isn’t a lake for sailing? This one, not so much. How about water skiing? Sure, in the earlier half of summer, not in February. Looks empty, meh, keep driving. 

Someone’s beloved home was once here.

 

Here was the stone fireplace; over there must have been the bathroom. A small living space with large views in a great location.

Tulare County is poor and uneducated, with bad air, fat people, high welfare, diabetes and teen pregnancies. Not too appealing, eh?

Kaweah Lake’s drained floor is kind of cruddy. We pick up aluminum cans and shake out the mud and gross stuff before squashing them. We slip and slide on the slimy mud that is coating the old road. We pick cockleburs out of our shoelaces and the shaggy edges of my unhemmed jeans. There is a lot of trash and broken things. It is a cheap place to visit for recreation compared to Sequoia—$4-5 per car instead of $30-35 for Sequoia. (Can’t remember exactly, so I am guessing at the actual numbers.)

Tulare County has been my home for almost 60 years (minus a few misguided years in college), and I work hard to find the good things here, particularly as an artist, looking for beautiful ways to represent my turf.

The lake bottom has treasures, whether it is aluminum cans for my friend’s Hawaii fund, Indian grinding holes, or an occasional blue marble or oyster shell (mysterious finds, indeed). Don’t forget, it also has beautiful views, lots of birds, and a few wildflowers too.

Tulare County’s main industry is agriculture. We feed the world, producing more food than any other place in the country (except Fresno County, because we trade off with them to be king). 

Kaweah Lake was built as water storage for agriculture (but flood control was its primary purpose).

What is this thing??
Disc Golf Association? A frisbee golf course!
Sometimes there are surprising peeks at beautiful views.

Tulare County has Sequoia National Park, a major recreational destination.

Kaweah Lake is a countywide draw for those who love to recreate on water.

Where in your life are you overlooking beauty, history, treasures, and recreational opportunities right under your nose, because it seems meh, boring, cruddy, and beneath you?

Field Trip

Trail Guy and I took another field trip. If I call it that, then it sounds as if I am working. I am always working if I hand out a business card or take a photo that might be worth painting.

View upcanyon from Slick Rock area at Kaweah Lake.
Alta Peak is the highest one; Moro Rock is the granite monolith just above the green hills on the left; the spots in the sky are my signature photo look.
Mustard is usually the first wildflower in the foothills, blooming in early February like clockwork (if we’ve had rain).
Walking in the lake bottom means getting cockleburrs in ones shoelaces.
With the recent rains, the lake is filling up, so we walked up to the Horse Creek Bridge, since our normal route is underwater now.
The pillars are huge up close and would be fun to paint, maybe like the trunks of redwood trees. I wonder how mural paint holds up underwater. . .
On the other side of the bridge is the abutment of a small old bridge. No dates visible, and only a vague idea of its purpose (besides the obvious one of crossing Horse Creek).
Looking back at the bridge. I’ve never seen it from this side before.
What a peculiar sight and strange find –an oyster shell! Were the squirrels planning on using it as a trap door? Did if fall from someone’s boat?

Heading Home

I’ve spent many nights away from home in the past month. The drive between home and away is so beautiful this time of year that I want to show you a few photos. I hold the camera up to the window while driving and not looking at the camera screen, so any photo that is sort of okay is lucky. Then I edit the lucky shots.

Someone has graffitied my initials in my favorite color on this road sign.

Would any of these photos make good paintings? Or am I just blinded by green love? If I paint these, can I write off my mileage? Or can I write off my mileage because I am considering these to be paintable?

I can’t stand tax season. But I love this time of year. Life is full of contradictions, dilemmas, incongruities, paradoxes, always at the same time. Thank goodness there are goods happening at the same time as bads.

Scouting Around

What are those dudes howling about over there??

For the first time in my life, I have purposely not gotten a cat “fixed”. We have so much trouble keeping cats that I want to generate a few back-up kitties. Besides, it costs so much and then some coyote just comes along, and poof, gone, bye-bye cat and bye-bye dollars.

So, our little Scout has become a boy-scoutin’ kitty. She has a couple of boyfriends who are yowling at one another down by the road. We are a little worried that Scout will go scouting too far away, but even if she was “fixed” there would be no guarantee of safety.

Meanwhile, I haven’t been working much and went scouting around (for scenery and exercise, not like Scout!!) with a couple of friends. It is early spring in Three Rivers, up on the BLM land along Salt Creek.

We saw a total of 4 young ‘uns! I told you it is spring around here.
First bush lupine of the year in bloom – more evidence of spring.
This waterfall along Salt Creek doesn’t photograph well for me, but I always try.
Whoa. This is so beautiful. Sometimes I can’t believe I get to live here.
Does this look like January to you? It was January 30 when I was here, honest! See? Tulare County isn’t all about unemployment, obesity and smog. (But don’t tell anyone else, okay?)
This map is where we were. Salt Creek BLM land. Some people call it Case Mountain, but it is one very long walk to Case Mountain, involving a tremendous amount of trespassing. Since it follows the Salt Creek drainage, that is the name I prefer.

Chasing a Tree

During a recent drawing lesson, I opened up my envelope of just-in-case snapshots, and this one was on top. Why not draw it? Demonstrating is a good method of teaching.

Both the trunk and branches are confusing to me. If I can’t see it, I can’t draw it. I can make stuff up, but since this was on The Captain’s property, we decided to go see it.

I told her it which flowers were blooming in my photo, which informed her of the location. This involved a rather messy slip-slide through very slick cow poo, hidden under leaves, with apologies to my jeans for the damage done. (Sometimes art is a dangerous profession.) I recognized the tree, or felt fairly certain when we got there.

Using a sketch book along with my camera, I began sorting out the twisted branch pattern to understand which was connected to which.

Photographing it at various angles was helpful.
No wonder I am confused. Look at this mess.
See how this one big branch turns behind the other? In my original photo, I couldn’t tell if I was looking through a gap or if the green was the beginnings of leaves.

Really, come on, now. It is a TREE. How can it be wrong?

My goal is to make my work believable. Another goal is to keep pushing myself to understand what I am seeing, to not coast and make things up. Other times the goal is to push myself to make things up.

Sounds as if I am perpetually confused. . . What am I seeing and why am I drawing it?

Right after sketching it, I flipped to another page in the sketch book and saw that the original photo was taped inside. I planned ahead and then forgot. The Captain and I got a good laugh. We need good laughs to get us through losing The Cowboy.

I didn’t hit my head when I slipped on the cow poo. This is just how I am these days.

Work That Doesn’t Feel Like Work

In my normally slow month of December, I finally had the chance to work on my upcoming book Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names.

It seems to be cooking along just fine, and then something goes wackadoodle with InDesign or the template ceases to do its templatish magic or it takes hours and hours to resize all the photos to the same effective PPI (you’d really rather not know) or some of the photos get corrupted and I have to keep moving the flashdrive back and forth between the 2 laptops or I realize the title page simply says “MK Wildflowers” instead of Mineral King Wildflowers . . .

You get the idea.

One morning I worked about 10 minutes on it and suddenly it was lunchtime. Then I put in about another 1/2 hour and it was dark out. Then another 10 minutes and it was 9 p.m. So, you see this is an engrossing and enjoyable project.

The worst part will be writing the blurb on the back. Have you ever tried writing about yourself? Don’t, if you are able to avoid it.

The plan is to have it in hand in April so I can do a book signing in the Mineral King Room at the Three Rivers Historical Museum before the Redbud Festival when people are in a wildflower state of mind. (Have you ever been in a wildflower state of mind? It might just be an idiosyncratic trait of this Central California artist.)

Chasing the Big Trees and Dogwoods

We (Trail Guy, Hiking Buddy, and Mr. Hiking Buddy) joined in with the madding crowd (I don’t know what “madding” actually means, but I liked the book and the movies “Far From the Madding Crowd”) and visited the main part of Sequoia National Park.

I wanted to see the dogwoods in their autumn colors and gather more photos of the big trees, AKA Sequoia Gigantea AKA Redwoods (Redwood High School, Class of ’77, yea for us). It was a fun day, but also smoky and crowded up there.

Smoky – this mess is coming over a ridge or two from a lightning fire in the Camp Nelson area.

Dogwood is a tree that blesses us twice – flowers in spring, colored leaves in fall. This is by the Crystal Cave Road.

Crescent Meadow

A fallen giant next to a midget man.

We walked on top of it and the midget man became Trail Guy, who helped us get down off of the big tree.

Woodpeckers go after redwood trees??

Tharp’s Log as it appeared when we approached it from a different trail.

I’ve painted this fence (not itself, but oil paintings of it) several times.

This big tree fell recently and its roots landed on a boulder.

This is the brightest one we saw.

It is tricky to find colored dogwood with redwood trees nearby, good sunlight, and a turnout off the road all together.

The colors were brighter in person.

Dogwood berries?

Remember to contact me if you bought a 2019 calendar in person – if you bought it through the website, I have your info already.

Lingering Wildflowers in Mineral King

I’ve spent more time in Mineral King than home working in August so the subject needs Friday as well as Monday next week.

Mineral King’s wildflowers peak in July, but there are still beautiful sights in August.

This dude is too busy to notice the stellar jay feather. He is a Lodgepole chipmunk.

Trail Guy on the Franklin/Farewell trail.

Yo, Bucky.

The flowers at the Franklin/Farewell trail junction are fading, but Bigelow Sneezeweed is still going strong.

We accompanied our good friend on the first four miles of her week-long backpack trip.

This girl can step out, even wearing a backpack that probably tops 45 lbs. I had to focus to stay on her 6, carrying my 4 lb. day pack. How embarrassing. When we got to the Trail Junction (affectionately known as the “Wildflower Cafe”), we had a snack, and then I announced that I had gone as far as I wanted to go.

I came to see some Explorer’s Gentian, and they did not disappoint.

They make the Sierra Gentian look boring by contrast. (Or perhaps my photos do that.)

Crystal Creek is slow and low.

Eight was enough miles for the day. We got back to the cabin before the sky opened up, and I got more knitting done. (Our friend probably was at her destination, hunkered down in her tent.)

It’s getting wet out there.