Friday, October 11, 2013

down from the mountain

I thought I had missed a wind storm.

After breakfast, I decided to drive up to the viewpoint that looks out over our bay --and off to China, if it weren't for that pesky curvature issue.  I hadn't been up there for over a month.

Here is what I anticipated.  A rough road with lightly repaired washouts from our rains this year.  All covered by what passes for a jungle canopy in these parts.

And I got all of that.  What surprised me, though, were the number of downed branches on the road.  Some rivaling the diameter of topes.

Usually, that means a wind storm has recently passed through.  We do get our fair share.  But, unless I had slept through one, all we have had recently were a few rain showers.

Puzzling.  Until I got to the top of the hill and saw this.

The road repair crews had arrived. 

In the process of getting up the hill, the road equipment managed to rip through the new canopy.  Either that, or the company was disguising its equipment just in case the White House's trigger finger decided to send cruise missiles down Mexico way.

I didn't stick around for long. As soon as the equipment was taken off the trailer and the work started, there would be no way to get back down the hill.

But I stopped long enough to take one shot.

This is the reason I came up the hill. 

Every time I look out over the bay with its sky-reflected blue, the surrounding green fields that will not look as verdant until the next rainy season, all topped off by the clouds forming over the sierras, I realize why I put up with the heat that has lingered long into the fall.  Even that dirty little town plopped on the shore has its virtues.

Virtues enough that entice me to keep coming back to this spot.  For no other reason than to enjoy the simple interplay of light, color, and texture.

And to enjoy the best gift of all -- being alive.

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