Neighborhood

Blackout

And what did I do when this happened? I laughed!

Baby Bird

Oh little fellow. The world waits to eat you.

A Dirty Mouth

Last night, when we went for a walk in Concourse Park, a loudmouth started to scream at a group of teen-aged girls who were goofing off in the children's playground.

Lion in Wait?

It was about ten to twenty yards south of the Sleepy Hollow entrance that I saw faint tracks in the dust on the left side of the road.

What's Polluting Your Neighborhood?

Enviromapper can show you where the dumping is going on and the location of the nearest Superfund site as well as a host of lesser evils such as keepers of hazardous waste, smokestacks, and waste water dischargers.

Signs and Solitude

Like Maria of alembic, I discount these sightings as signs.

The Beeman 1

The Swarm 2

The Bee Man came just before five. He'd cleared out seven hives before he came to ours.

A Swarm

Nature's come to our condominium. An Africanized honey bee queen found a crack beneath our Spanish tile eaves and set up court.

Feeding the Birds

I'm part of the property now and it's my task to feed.

A Theology of Drones

Is the neighborhood losing that capricious faith that it had after 9-11?

Lawnmower Men

Amputated stalks of dead grass litter the streets of the complex.

Crows

Crows have taken over a tall pine tree a short block away.

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Felis Concolor at Whiting Wilderness 4

On Tuesday, I went for a walk along the Sage Scrub Trail. There, preserved in the hardened mud along that mountain biker-eroded canyon, I saw a series of about ten tracks.

Before Hydrocordone

Mark that as the last creative turns of phrase that I can manage for the next few days.

Homo Sapiens at Whiting Ranch

The only sound I heard was the wind tumbling off the mountain, hustling through the chaparral, and rushing through the arroyos and the gleaming industrial park at the mouth of the canyon to make a date with the ocean.

The Unknown Sound

What percussion was this?

Heap of Sound

The world throws noise through the narrow open slit of my bedroom window.

Dumpsters & Gorillas in the Silence

I am coming to treasure the moment when the air cleaner shuts off at noon.

Winter Closure Continues at Whiting Ranch

Yellow police tape and red signs remain looped around the area following this month's earlier mountain lion attack. I suspect that bikers are ignoring the signs.

Martin Luther King Day 2004

Was that firecracker meant to commemorate James Earl Ray?

Boys and Fire

Boys tease fire like they tease wild animals.

My Mountain Lion

Was this my lion, the lion that I frightened off last October?

Felis concolor at Whiting Ranch Wilderness 3

We can and will learn from this. My sincere condolences to the family of the victim, to the woman who was mauled, and the two survivors of the incidents.

Felis Concolor at Whiting Ranch Wilderness 2

Think of it: a biker never stops to look. He is always on the move, always -- in the eyes of the lion -- fleeing. It's like dragging a piece of red yarn in front of your cat. It's going to induce it to pounce.

Black Helicopters

The grasshopper march passes.

Go Away Forever

Awakened to the sound of shouting. Boys yelling. Two inside an upstairs condominium. A third on the street. The third wants in.

Mist, Rain, and Spin

A brown haze has parked itself on the alluvial plain beneath Portola Hills.

Two People Framing an Excursion

Fifty steps down into Whiting Wilderness, I saw a tiny monogamous or perhaps unmarried California Mouse crossing the trail.

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Whiting Ranch Wilderness 10

Whiting Ranch Wilderness 9

Whiting Ranch Wilderness 8

On a Trail, in the Dark

Yesterday afternoon, Lynn and I braved the partial cloud cover to hike along the lowest ridge on our skyline to a place called "Vulture Crags".

Word of an Attack on America

Here in our nation at war, in this neighborhood only ten miles from the Pacific Ocean where the sampans and the dhows could land and end our freedom forever, sabotaging clouds bombarded us with spikes of rain.

Zoned

But this is how the mind of the marketer works. He/she discriminates between "winners" and "losers" (who often have the blues for good reason.)

Too Much Information, Probably

The trail runs through open meadows and a subdivision. I was in the midst of the subdivision when Nature called.

Sleepy Hollow

I took a walk today through the underlight of Sleepy Hollow, a dusky green vale that begins a seasonal run of water to the sea in Whiting Wilderness.

Deer, Puma Tracks, and Dead Rabbits

I came upon a park ranger who was deciding what to do with a dead rabbit. It had clearly been killed and chewed.

Moody Mountain Lions and Coyotes

I told my neighbors about seeing the mountain lion the other evening.

Felis concolor at Whiting Ranch Wilderness

A sound like breaking tinsel as the body burst out of the grass along the road's edge. A face: white cheeks, black nose and eyes, tan fringes.

Utah Travel Diary 1

Looking up the canyon, past the pumpkin colored walls of the lower gorge, is like seeing hot glaciers capping the red rock.

Mexican Gardeners and Middle Class Copouts

we claim that we want this end to illegal immigration. So why don't we seek lifestyles that are less dependant on lawns and nonnative shrubs?

A Bar

I don't know what to write on this topic except that I know that Judy Reeves has this thing about cowboys.

Dead End

At the end of my street are a sidewalk, a hedge, and a wall.

Aftershocks of the Full Moon

As the darkness grows more full, we will sleep better than we do now.

An Unseen Argument

I wanted to say "Why are you talking of these things on a night like this? Don't you know that the heat makes you crazy?"

Portola Hills 2

Why Blog?

There seem to be two reasons people give for blogging: to change minds and to get laid.

Space in Portola Hills

Once someone left me a nasty note that I think was intended for someone else.

Confluence Project

I took a look at some of the nearby confluences (oh Lord, I am sounding like a New Age vortex seeker when I say that!) and came to a conclusion that there's an awful lot of middle of nowhere in the world.

Portola Hills 1

The Heat of Two Suns

The heat of the sky's sun and of my inner sun broiled me thoroughly today.

Ridgeline

In the evenings, rabbits -- Western cottontails -- come out of the coyote brush and dine on the lawn.

Bluing and the Talking Mountain

It's stupid, trite, to sum this up by saying that summer is here, burning us, but there you have it.

Human Cormorant

Someone throw me a fish, please. Salmon is nice.

Midnight in Trabuco Canyon

I'm free of clanging in my ears, the deafness of the wakeful world.

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Whiting Ranch Wilderness 4

Whiting Ranch Wilderness 2

Whiting Ranch Wilderness 1

Dreaded Hill

Dreaded Hill rises like a great panther paw between two canyons.

Whiting Ranch Wilderness 2003

"I've been telling him about 'the mountain lion'," he winked. "Tell him about the mountain lion."

Deep Down

The habitable part of our condominium ends its fall from the sky at a long seam separating its concrete foundation from the tarred over asphalt of our cul de sac.

Stop Signs

Someone went around my home town of San Bernardino, California, carrying a stencil and a can of silver spray paint in about 1970.

The Third Week of the Three Day War

It's hitting people that war isn't a football game.

Scene at the Soup and Salad Bar

I'm going to come down hard on you, so hard on you," she yelled.

Right in My Neighborhood

Hey, we have a web page for Trabuco Canyon!

Where I Went When the War Began

"You never know," said the clerk.

Back in the Land of My Birth

I'm back!

A Fire

I noticed the headache before I noticed the odor: the bitter azure stink of an electrical fire.

Just Outside the Chaparral

Every mop dog who yearns to be a wolf joins in the agonized whining.

Blackout

One word -- Fuck! -- pushed forward from my mouth and, for a second, seemed to make everything flash on again.

Face to Face with Conservatism

I don't know why I invited the confrontation.

Death and the Purple Plum

They haven't torn the heartwood from it: just given it a severe Marine Corps trim.

Halloween Decorations

Glenn Ranch Road

I saw a stout woman, wearing a grey sweatshirt, pushing a shopping cart full of groceries with one hand and the yellow-topped red plastic car that bore her son with the other.

Cassandro

Last year at this time, we worried because we felt that we could do nothing to stop terrorists from attacking us. This year we fret that we can do nothing to stop our government from doing whatever it pleases.

Underwhelming Support

The Iraq Adventure happens without a second thought from us. It's something the Washington government is doing, far and away.

The Litter King

I doubt that Tony Kanoa would link to my page, this other voice from Portola Hills.

Season of the Dragon

A few weeks from now, the first drops of rain will pierce the hard-baked crust left over from summer and bathe the woody roots of the pallid scrub that clump along the sandstone spines and domes of Whiting Canyon like fresh hair implants on a stark scalp.

Curious Motion
The corrugated purr of a truck engine wakes me. I hear footsteps moving heavy things up a steel ramp. Kris...

Christian Commercialism

Saddleback Community Church dutifully passed out tin signs commemorating 9-11 to its members.

Fawn Ridge Crossing
Orange cones and fresh yellow lines sprung up around the neighborhood. Yesterday, I saw a crowd of candy-pants wearing mothers...

The Courage to be a Big Weakling

I've learned that it takes courage to say "no" to a woman who wants you to push her car up a hill; courage that is not too dis-similar, if somewhat milder, than that of a teenaged girl rejecting the advances of an amorous boyfriend.

Views

I'm dying for this park.

Vulcan's Children

I've seen some big fires in my time, conflagrations that swept across the foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains in minutes. They were a pretty sight at night when the orange lines slowed in their progress over the hills as if to give the firefighters a rest; they were most horrid during the day when they spewed smoke tumors and dropped glowing, nigreous flakes of hot carbon onto our street, some two miles behind the city limit.

Black Oil Sunflower Seed

I know nothing of avian politics, but they all know that there is black oil sunflower seed to be had on the deck with the cacti, the impatiens, and the dwarf date palm.

Changes on A Fossil Dune

Australian aborigines soak the features of the earth they walk upon in their mythology. Even rough badlands -- dried splashes of mud -- receive histories from the old men who remember the wisdom of the tribe.

Chlorine in the Falls

I sigh and think of the gold fish that could be there instead of the stink of anti-bacterial paranoia.

Beneath Mount Santiago

I'm a middle aged Jeremiah, pointing to the Jehoiakim in the White House, and watching as no one reads the scrolls he puts out.

Neighborly Interest

What would they make of the discussions of the chat room disputes, my takes on contemporary politics, my mystical forays into the zoo, my thinking about photography, my rants, my love of absurd web sites, my expressions of uncertainty? Would they try to cure me?

Dog Gone
Dog Gone Every day I see some of my neighbors walking their dogs around the condominium development. Some have pets...