San Francisco

What is the first thing you want to see in a new city?  For me it is either the zoo or the botanical gardens.  So on a lovely day in San Francisco, my college friend and I braved the traffic for the gardens.  Now, I must tell you there must be something in the air of San Fran to make the traffic acceptable, platable even -- why was I not annoyed and overwhelmed like when I was in LA?  Why is San Fran so charmed?  

This is the view upon first entering the gardens.  Locals get into the gardens for free -- everyone else has to pay.  Pretty good system.

My favorite part of the gardens was the "Fragrant Garden".  I was the only one touching all the plants and smelling my fingers.  Mugwort is disgusting.  I never knew there were so many varieties of geranium -- all so delicious.  And white lavender . . . I think you should get a plant for yourself.

These were one of my favorites -- orange of course.  I could not find a sign to tell me what they are though.  Does anyone know?

I loved every time we came across one of the garden sheds.  Apparently, I wasn't the only one drawn to them as there were many KEEP OUT signs.  Doesn't it look homey?

Surely, a relative of Cousin It.

This is a kind of oxalis -- otherwise known as redwood sorrel -- not to be confused with clover.  (I had a lovely red variety as a house plant before I moved).  It makes for an exquisite native ground cover under the redwoods.

I have hat envy.  Seriously, I had to control myself.

This would make for a lovely painting. Don't you think?

This is a passion flower.  Many butterflies lay eggs on its leaves which are eaten by catapillars which then make their crysalis on the passion flower vines.

The street before this, which was much steeper, took my breath away, literally.  Adrenaline pumping, the real deal.  I did not think my car would make it down.  Please don't scold me, my friend took the picture.  Who needs roller coasters?

Big Basin

Big Basin is a California state park not far from San Jose.  The toddling drive from Santa Cruz left me always expecting to find a larger road or at least some signage . . . my college friend, Karin kept reassuring me we were heading in the right direction and that we were on a HUGE road for the area.  And then we were there.

Taking pictures of redwoods  . . . pictures that communicate their scope and splendor . . . well, I haven't figured it out.  It is similar to taking pictures of the Grand Canyon that convey depth. 

Karin, who lives in a tiny cabin  in the redwoods herself, was a delightful companion.  She waxed eloquent about the smell of the redwoods in morning and taught me about fairy rings and fires.  We described the emotional state of the various trees and/or the feel of a certain stand. Their age and height took hold of my heart and wouldn't let go.  I like to touch them.  Even those who had fallen had a certain feel of vitality to them.

The redwood's ability to survive the forest fires is a testament to stability and strangely encouraging to me.  Seeing the charred but healthy trees -- charred from fires 50-200 years ago -- made me feel like a safe little girl.

These aren't redwoods, but they were such impressive little trees -- about to dance, having a lively conversation?

We drove through the park and got onto Skyline Drive.  With views like this I didn't even notice how long it took to wind our way down to San Mateo.

Big Sur

I know it has been awhile since I have posted.  Not because I haven't had any adventures though.

Last week I drove up Route 1 through Big Sur -- from Cambria to Monterey.  I am not one to keep track of time, so I am uncertain how long it took to navigate the windy mind blowing road.   Somewhere between 2 -4 hours . . .   When one is in heaven, who cares about the time?

I ran into these guys when I took a short excursion into the hills. Unfortunately, I was advised to turn back -- small car, low to the ground, and all.  My little car felt a bit insulted it wasn't off road quality.

What is there to say?

I climbed up and sat on these rocks and ate my lunch.  The couple near me were speaking German.

I stopped at the state park to do a short hike and to indulge in the fantasy of living with a view like this day in and out.

On the other side of the road, there were coastal redwood forests . . .

There used to be a house that overlooked this waterfall, but it was given along with the land to the state for public use, so they tore it down.  Now it lives in my imagination. One could get used to this view.

Well there I am . . . a bit stern, concentrating.  You would think I would have the technique down to take a photo of self (nose down, smile, soften your eyes) . . . I am still working on it.

Try as I could, I couldn't find a way down to this idyllic cove.  There were footprints though!  Someone young and lithe, no doubt found the way.

There were so many pictures I didn't take. And the art galleries were closed by the time I got to them.  So I will HAVE to go back.  A convenient excuse.  Very.