I'm goin' miss my buddies

My friends from across the road. I know they're going to miss me, and likewise, I already miss them.

When I asked them each something personal, they all told me, 'an apple a day keeps their horse flies away'.

The Ranches of West Marin

These ranches are isolated, the roads minimal and the landscape - more than desolate.

We found the Red Hill Ranch while driving along the Petaluma / Point Reyes Road.  'Red Hill' is a cattle ranch belonging to the Dolcini family, who have been in the Marin County area since 1870. Their ranch today is noted primarily for their grass-fed Angus beef - and this original homestead was built by the family's second generation, in 1918.

The Dolcini's "farm stand" is up a long graveled road. And inside a barn, in a large refrigerated glass case, - butter, cheese, eggs and packaged beef. Their purchase policy is based on the old, tried and true honor system - with a crumpled worn out notebook to record the amount, and a simple wooden box for the cash.

Most of these coastal ranches are cooled annually from the western winds blowing off the nearby Pacific. But today, it is not only cool, but eerily quiet.  Only hearing now and then, ever so softly - the moving creaking of an old hinged barn door.  The name of "Kitty" is on the mailbox, but from today's visit - no hide, nor hair of anyone - not even a cow.

Marin County & the grandkids

San Geronimo Valley, Woodacre, CA

Bella;  always the planner and organizer who chose the theme of her mums recent surprise party - India.

And Lola;  who is the party.

If ever I had a cabin ....

I would build me something along these lines. Something hugging the wilderness and tight within a natural surrounding.  We are here now, in the Redwoods, staying in this cabin for a week while visiting family in Woodacre, California.

From the photos, you might not be able to hear the song birds, or see the enormous roaming mountain gorillas, but I promise you, they are all there.

'Big Pass' property decimated.

Now, let me just preface this by saying, our old friend Winnie-the-Pooh would have recognized this area's surroundings as a "hundred acre wood".

What used to be called Shell Road, now Higel Avenue on Siesta Key, has always been a unique place - a pristine wooded seascape bordering on the Gulf of Mexico. Right now a large chunk stands naked, clear-cut and totally removed from it's natural past.  Native old-growth trees and a few non-natives were all uprooted, mowed down and bulldozed; and all removed within ten days.

Sixty plus years of my old stompin' grounds along Shell Road, Big Pass and the Gulf are gone. And, leaving behind, a Siesta Key that never was. A catastrophic hurricane couldn't have done more. Damn builders, developers, and selfish new homeowners - damn them all.

Billy update; (from january 24th)

This afternoon, after having been out of town for a week, I checked up on my old buddy, Billy "the Birdman".

Up at the north bridge, I found Billy whistling for one of his new offspring - the young Osprey fledgling - Henry.  Who, just being skyward, now acrobatically swooped down within inches of the bay's surface, then suddenly turning his wings outward and radically upward - responded to his call.

"Yesterday, I probably had eleven kids come by and visit. And so many, after reading about my arrest, keep stopping by to give me a little extra. I hate that money, so I always refuse".

Billy appears just a bit more sun burnt, but doin' well - and his new young "Henry" looks to be very fast, and well fed.

(Edit note)  Sunday the 23rd - four days later

As I was coming back over the bridge last night, after buying some smokes, I noticed three police cruisers parked at the 'bridge' park, lights on and engines running.

Swung back and found an irate young family standing around their pick-up, which was backed up, close to the seawall. Apparently Billy had objected to their loud music and had threatened them. Besides the officers, a supervisor was called and after a forty minute determination, one of the cops told me to remind Billy, "he has 48 hours to pack it up, all of his belongings - and move along".

Outside, early this morning from all around my lagoon, the chatter from the nearby Osprey's was particularly loud and vocal. So much so, that those nesting family Osprey's drowned out all of the typical songs from my vocal yard birds that normally greet me at sunrise.

Sea Grapes

With a cooler than normal spring this year, the Sea Grapes are hanging heavy.

It's been probably thirty years since I last picked, cooked and prepared Sea Grape jam in my old kitchen. And all, way before Smuckers. All about the same time I was baking my own heavy bread to spread it on. And, that was way before Pepperidge Farms.

Looking at the abundant harvest now, I'm feelin' a little lazy, but it certainly reminded me of that long ordeal and a reminder of some of those old survival pleasures from the past.