Getting To Know The Neighbors

We are settling in, learning the lay of the land, meeting our few neighbors. It takes time, energy, effort. We've hardly been visiting our favorite blogs and not posting on Facebook at all. I haven't been returning emails or phone calls. We're losing track of where everyone is these days, but we trust that spring is springing up everywhere, and all is well in your world. Sometimes I wonder if I'll wake up one day and discover that we've simply stopped blogging and facebooking. But then I look out the window and something so good is happening out there, that I have to grab the camera and take a wander. Here is a little of what we've been seeing:
We have had some beautiful spring weather these past few days. Temps even hit the 70s on Sunday. That brought out the local Western Fence Lizard. I had no idea when I was photographing it that its belly was blue, but when I downloaded the photos the first thing Roger said was "Hey, check out that blue belly." Made us laugh and think of Pablo and his blue-tailed skink (except our little guy is a real lizard!) These lizards were out and about and scurrying everywhere.
When we first moved in (was it just ten days ago?), one of the real estate agents told us about the robin's nest in the tree closest to the driveway. He wanted us to know so we could warn the big moving van driver to avoid knocking or coming close to this low branch. The movers were very good about it and worked diligently not to knock the branch off the tree. For a few days, though, that nest appeared abandoned. We just assumed all that effort had been too late, but look who showed up the other day. Isn't she a beauty? We're hoping for a nest full of little baby robins. Although the daily calls of the local raptor keeps everyone on edge and alert.

We haven't had time to put up our good birdfeeder yet. We just found it on Saturday after looking through several large boxes. The platform feeders are still providing the food for the house finches, lesser goldfinches, stellar's jays, and quite surprisingly our first black-headed grosbeak, which showed up on Sunday. The mourning doves, dark-eyed juncoes, California towhees and spotted towhees all prowl the ground under the feeder for fallen seed. It's quite a menagerie out our window, and we're hoping to attract more with a variety of foods.
I'm mixing up batches of hummingbird sugar water in amounts I never had to do in Port Townsend. Our little rufus hummers up there were not quite as voracious eaters as the batch of hummingbirds we have here. We have two feeders up, and they are going through them in about two days. I think about their little bodies, their hearts beating a thousand or more beats a minute and I think, "No wonder, they live on sugar!" They are incredibly fierce little creatures. Had I been quicker with the camera, I would have gotten a shot of one buzzing our nodding-in-the-sun kitty cat, staring at him from about three feet away. Ah, now that's fierce.

This is our world these days. More to come as we do more exploring.

Okay, So I Lied

Roger isn't doing Wednesday's post. He got sidetracked by a surfeit of information on the history of gold and the irrigation ditches. It's pretty interesting stuff. In the meantime, my back is mending slowly. For each day I do something stupid, I extend my recovery period. Today we hiked over three miles on one of the ditch trails. It's just too hard not to head outside. The fall weather is so beautiful, and the hummingbirds are making quiet clicking sounds in the manzanitas. How would we know, if we didn't head out and take a look and listen?

What's Coming

The weather has been unseasonably warm here on California's central coast. Some crazy high pressure system has parked over us (again), and we are warm and dry. Sure, it feels good deep into our winter bones, but we know how we'll pay for it this summer-- with water rationing. We've been reading stories about it everyday in the local paper. It's hard not to love these balmy days, blue skies, temps in the 70s, but we need rain. Bad.
We've lived here long enough to remember when "northern" California was considered wet, wet like Oregon wet. Roger was born in this part of California; he has spent much of his 66 years within 50 miles of here. The coastal redwoods here are at least twenty times older than he. They thrive in the coastal foggy damp environment. That dampness is long gone. Now we are watching the parched land dry and crack. Day after week after month after year.
On these beautiful sunny days we walk the Pogonip, a 640 acre piece of land covered in redwoods, oaks, and coastal prairie. Here the red-shouldered hawk cries out to its mate. We watch as she flies over, and they fly away together. The hummingbird leaves a tippy top branch and darts above us where it hovers and watches every move we make.
Off in every meadow, especially the ones we don't ever see, the coyotes, bobcats, and cougars roam. They see us, so think they know what's coming.

All photos taken last Wednesday January 28th.