Category: Nature Photography

A Change In The Wind

“In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours.” ~ Mark Twain


Friday, I played hooky for a few hours and snuck out to the garden. Within minutes, I was peeling off layers like an onion and thinking it was time to move the winter clothes into storage. A week of mid-70’s in early February gets me dreaming about planting spring annuals, but I have wised up a bit through the years.

The city gardens – tucked in and protected from the elements creating their own micro-climate – scream “spring!”



But the Homeward Bound Memorial Garden knows otherwise. A few brave bulbs, the rosemary, and the Ceanothus have appeared,



but the rest of the garden felt a change was in the wind – literally.

It blew in from the north on Saturday – 25 mph of cold in our faces and dropping our reality down a more seasonable twenty degrees. I know. Quit whining. You’re California-spoiled.

Truth be told, none of us are quite ready for spring yet. Spring means summer – and those 100+ degree days will be here soon enough.

So stay tucked under the covers little bulbs, and don’t quite unwrap yet tiny buds –


We’ll take a few more weeks of sweatshirts and Golden blankets.

And some rain would be lovely, too.

“The course of the seasons is a piece of clock-work, with a cuckoo to call when it is springtime.” ~ Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

Special Delivery

Saturday was puppy going home day. While all the preparations were being made, and Chubbs received his morning massage,

another pup (of sorts) was getting ready for his arrival.
On Tuesday, Ms. London gave birth to baby Paris.

Yes – rescue animals come in all shapes and sizes at Homeward Bound. On the private side of the fence, our president provides refuge to geese and ducks and roosters – and the biggest, oldest pig I have ever seen.

Most recently, goats and Alpacas appeared.

Just a few days old, baby Paris is already taking the world by storm.



But it’s no fun being the only little one. So while she, the elders, and the goats looked on, Ms. Autumn prepared to deliver a playmate.

It’s hard to focus when you have such an audience.


But sometimes, it’s a good thing there are others standing by to lend a hand.

With a little assist, baby Gabriel entered the world on a beautiful and unseasonably warm Saturday morning…a gorgeous rose-grey Alpaca boy was born.

Welcome to the world, Gabriel.



And happy lives to all our going home puppies, too!

Fragility and Resilience

“Life is fragile, like the dew hanging delicately on the grass, crystal drops that will be carried away on the first morning breeze.” ~  Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

Sometimes, the most fragile-looking things have the greatest resilience.

A spider’s intricate web is designed to hold its maker, its prey, and a chandelier of droplets ten times its weight.

This tiny frog is everywhere in the garden in the middle of winter, finding shelter and warmth under leave piles and overturned pots.

I wish the same resilience for Taylor – a new arrival.

He looks like a very young dog, but is actually a three-year-old, emaciated boy. His story is not yet written.

We’ll need to determine if there is an unmet physical or emotional need – or if his well-meaning people were just unsure how to help him. Thankfully, they turned to us.

It’s clear that Taylor has put his trust in us, as well.


The garden is quiet and still – in anticipation of more rain and cutting back later in the month.

But the inn is filling up fast; the annual post-holiday flood of dogs. So “going homes” are in order to clear some space. Congratulations to Riggs, Charlie, and Rudy.



Happy lives, all!

Wishing you hope

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all….
~ Emily Dickinson

My hope for your holiday and the New Year:
Kindness. Civility. Generosity. Patience. Possibility.

Wishing you all the joys of the season. May they not be forgotten in the New Year.

How Did It Get To Be So Late?

“How did it get so late so soon?
It’s night before it’s afternoon.
December is here before it’s June.
My goodness how the time has flewn.
How did it get so late so soon?”
~ Dr. Seuss

The Calendar says “December.” I knew it was coming; even wished it so. But it arrived so quickly.

The valley fog has set in.


We had our first real rain.

The leaves have nearly finished falling; the beds are all raised; the bulbs – nearly 500 of them – are all planted.

The Dahlias are lifted and stored for the winter. And the best indications of the season’s close are my aching knees, the tired bees…

and the stack of garden magazines by my bedside for inspiration. For gardeners – winter is for imagining. Sometimes, our plans are larger than our reality. And sometimes, not.

Last October, the front entry was a barren stretch of dirt.

The weeds had been killed off. The ground covered with cardboard, leaf mulch, and dirt mixed with compost to “cook” for the better part of a season. Some tiny starts were installed late in the fall so their roots might grow strong before spring (Ceanothus, Lavatera, Smoke Tree, Lupine, Iris, Crepe Myrtle, Barberry, and Iceberg roses).

This was the design that I thought might take two or three years to reach maturity.

In the spring, I added Lavender, Asters and Miscanthus grass divides. And one season later, the bed exceeded all of my expectations.


The bed has created a perfect surround for the remembrance tree that our president and her father crafted with the original tags of dogs who have come through our doors on their journeys home.


In the garden, I have learned the benefits of patience. If you can clear a bed, fill it with good soil and nutrients, and let it rest for a season, the reward may be more than you imagined.


So it was with Ariel and Mason.

These two very special senior citizens – a bonded pair – have been waiting a long while for their forever home. They were both of advanced age and in need of medical attention when their human passed. Destined for a shelter, their odds were not good. An area partner intervened and recognized how much they needed each other. Placing this mismatched pair would take some time…something we could, thankfully, provide to them. We thought we found the right place once, but a little misunderstanding about the purpose of chickens put a quick end to that.

Still, they kept the faith and waited patiently. This week, they went home with a longtime volunteer. We could not have picked a better human for them if we had imagined one all winter long.

Happy lives to you two. We sure are going to miss you around here!

Autumn is the Hush

“I’m not ready for winter” is the refrain I hear as the fog sets in and the volunteers don their winter wools. But I am. Or nearly so.

The garden is putting on its final show – a glorious crown to a long, hot summer.

As if it saved up all its energy for a final encore, displaying its growing maturity in tall drifts of purple, orange, pink and gold.



By the end of the month, the raising of the beds will be complete,

the dahlias lifted, the bulbs installed for spring, and the remaining leaves turned to mulch. Then, the garden and I will both be ready for a long rest.

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” ~John Steinbeck

Reading about wildflower seeds, I tried an experiment and set some packets of wild Columbine, heirloom Poppy, and butterfly mixes in the soil and simply stomped them into the ground. If nature can self-sow, why not help her along?

“Over everything connected with autumn there lingers some golden spell—some unseen influence that penetrates the soul with its mysterious power.” ~Northern Advocate

With so many “going-homes,” even the kennel is quieter with room in the inn. It goes in waves this way. Enjoy it while you can; linger longer with each pup until the next transport arrives. You will hear no complaints from them.

“No spring nor summer’s beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.” ~ John Donne, “Elegy IX: The Autumnal”

If the tempo of summer is allegro – fall, despite all of its chores, is adagio. A slower pace. A gradual letting go. A last romp in grassy fields and golden sun before the rains and mud.

“Autumn is the hush before winter.” ~ French Proverb

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

For the first time in months, I have a weekend without a work project – and without a puppy. Little Journey has found her forever home.

Now named Charli, she greeted her new Mom with a smother of kisses and flat out stole her heart. But she picked the right heart, because this Mom is an experienced dog person and a good leader with kind instincts. Charli has grown kids to play with, a new Dad who is making her steps so she can reach the people bed, and a one-year-old canine cousin named Max who will keep her in her place. She has a big backyard, lives by the lake, and when she is old enough, will become Mom’s running companion. I could not be happier for her – or for her new family.

Another delight: my wayward gardeners have returned as fall has arrived.

Ina finished making the shed immaculate and moved the Lilac tree to a much happier home. Peggy and Steve were back with Mary who was being watched carefully having spent two days in intensive care for eating raisins!

And Maria set the stage for fall with her scarecrows and adorable pumpkin patch.

Anna is permanently excused (until Rose pruning day) for her work as an adoption counselor – and care of her latest charge, Nala.

The garden, meanwhile, is stunning.

Once towering stalks of budding Asters are now bent and beautiful mounds with their purple blossoms covered in bees and butterflies.

The Dahlias have never been larger or continued their blooms so late in the season.



They have thrived in their new home.

And Going Home photos are now staged in front of turning trees – creating loads of heavenly leaf mulch to lighten the clay soil in the beds this spring.



It is time for reveling in the colors of Autumn, raising the beds, and planting bulbs before putting the garden to rest for winter.



And hopefully, a brief hold on puppies!! Happy life, Journey Charli girl!

Return to the Garden

“Where will you begin?” she asked.
“At the beginning, I guess.”

This sign was posted over our shed door. The weeds are indeed laughing. Two hours after the last puppy of Irish’s litter was adopted, in rolled the van with six more! I can’t show them to you due to a promise we made to the kind human who brought them to us. She saw that they were in need and intervened. We won’t give her up as she may yet return with more.

Needless to say, my hoped for return to the garden was again delayed. And the weeds took full advantage. The blueberries were overrun, the paths were overtaken, crabgrass invaded, and the garden shed disappeared in a mass of cobwebs.

Maria refused to weed the herb garden bed; she said that it was all to be gone or she was washing her hands of it. I couldn’t bear to see it all dug up and sitting empty; we have months to go before the winter. So it has been reclaimed as a community bed. Let the whining begin.


As the last litter numbers dwindled over the course of a week, I was able to spend a little more time in the garden. Bit by bit, it is getting there. And with our last two little fluff balls now safely home, the garden is mine ours. And the weeds? Well who is laughing now?!

The Dahlias are beautiful.

The blueberries are once again peacefully co-existing with the California poppies and smothered in the pine needles they love.

The grapes are still producing…in September!

And as our rivers are still full from our long wet winter, I am watering, watering, watering to bring the garden back to life.


Now that the weather is beginning to cool, the gardeners, too, are making their return. Maria is planning her October display, Dee cleared out the daylilies,

Rob rebuilt the leaf mulch container for fall,

and Ina cleaned the garden shed!

Puppies are a joy – and they need what they need when they need it. Many of their new families stay in touch and I delight in seeing the pictures of them growing as fast as the weeds in the garden. (This is Mocha with his new big brother.)

I am so proud of them. I miss them a tiny bit. Still, I am happy to be back in the garden.