Another Day at The Huntington


Decades ago three of us attended the same two room elementary school, Clay Center, located at the corner of the intersection of two gravel, country roads, surrounded by rolling farmland in Northwest Missouri.

On Wednesday morning, we strolled though part of The Huntington Gardens and one of the art galleries there.

Ramona, the youngest one of us, is visiting her brother, Craig, who lives in Palm Springs. She loves succulents so we headed to that part of the gardens first.

Ramona and my daughter strolling along one of the wider pathways.

I have been here at least six times in the last six months. I see something new and fascinating every time.

After the succulent and cactus area, we headed to one of the art galleries. When I was here before Blue Boy was on loan. Yes, this is the genuine Blue Boy. Craig was so excited to see him and loved this gallery, all of it.
Ramona wanted to see the Chinese Gardens so we passed by this portion of the Japanese Gardens on the way.
A little water fall.

A tiny bit of the Chinese Garden.

The lake in the Chinese Garden was full of water lillies in bloom. Most were flat on the water but not these.
The three of us together for the first time in decades.

An Afternoon at Laguna Beach


Every year Laguna Beach has a Garden Tour. We decided to take a look and celebrate Mother’s Day one day early–my daughter, grandson, his girlfriend, and I. To be honest the tour was a bit disappointing but Laguna Beach itself definitely was not. We enjoyed ourselves immensely and will return.

We decided to do the cardio tour–yes, that is what they called it. The shuttle drops everyone off at Garden 1, you follow a map, and walk the rest of the tour. The option is to take the shuttle just about everywhere. We did not do that. Here are a few photos I took along the way.


The rest of my family in front of me walking one of the cardio sections.

A door I loved in an alley along the way.

Laguna Beach is very hilly. Many houses are not only like those above but perched at the top of the hills.

Some interesting flowers along the way.

The final street of the tour was the street closet to the ocean.

Looking through the gate at the side of one the elegant houses along the sea.

Some people apparently prefer more privacy.

I found this undulating grass quite fascinating.

This and the following photo are of Shaw’s Cove, a rather hidden public beach with waves crashing against rocks and only a few locals. There is a series of steps that lead down to the Cove.

Afternoon at the California Botanical Garden


Unlike The Huntington where you can find plants from all over the world, this garden focuses on plants native to California.

Near the entrance.

Not sure you can see here, but the mountain top has a tiny bit of snow left even though in the 80s in the garden.

Many of the plants are labeled. This one was not.


This is the sycamore mentioned in the previous photo.
These large trees are everywhere. I did not see a label.
Channel Islands Bush Poppies. I have not made it to Channel Islands National Park yet.
In this photo the snow on the mountain is evident. Much of this garden is forested and cool.
California Iris
Poppies and Firecracker Penstemon.
Wild Iris blooming everywhere.
A small Coastal Redwood forest. Redwood trees grow better if more than one so they can join roots and communicate. I have one in my yard and no space to plant another to keep it company.
One of the mountains often referred to as sisters.
At my house all the squirrels are brown. Here I saw both grey and brown.
California Buckeye. The flowers emit an intense heavenly perfume.
The flowers. If I had space in my yard, I would plant one.
Wild strawberries.
The edge of a sculpture garden with some interesting sculptures.
Poppies and Iris.
More Iris .
Many flowers, many colors growing together.

The Huntington Gardens–Part Two


In the last six weeks I have travelled to these gardens five times, two alone and three with house guests. Amid all the turmoil in the world today this is a place where nature continues its grand display, instilling a sense of peace and quiet.

My son headed to the Chinese and Japanese gardens.
Earlier photos were the walk to arrive here at the Japanese Gardens.

Depending on how you walk through the gardens, you walk to Japanese first, then Chinese, then back to the Japanese Gardens. This and the following few photos are the Chinese Gardens.

The Chinese Garden is filled with various sizes of limestone that looks like sculptures but is natural. The next time I go, I am going to learn what is written on many of the pieces of limestone.

In many places you can see the San Gabriel Mountains which are not far away.
The pond is filled with fish.
My son enjoying the waterfall.
I sat on a bench and stared at this for a long time, wondering how they do this without messing any of it up. There are doze
Looking back as we are on the way out.
And finally something European as we headed toward the parking area.

After five times, I have seen most of the gardens–next post will be some photos of the Australian area–and the two art galleries. Never made it to the library yet.

The Huntington–Gardens, Part One


Where have I been? Entertaining my son whom I had not seen in more than two years. One of the things he wanted to do was visit The Huntington in Pasadena after seeing some photos I took on a visit in January. Unless you get there as soon as they open and stay all day, it is impossible to see everything in one day. I have been there four times and only seen the gardens. The library and art gallery await for another time. Here are the photos from the first excursion with my son, Erik.

Erik took a lot of photos. This set is mostly in the desert garden section filled with cactus and succulents.
Yes, those are thorns sticking out of the trunk.

In many place in the gardens you can see the San Gabriel Mountains in the background.

I found the colors and texture of the trunk of this tree quite a contrast to many in the desert area. This photo and several that follow were taken in the Australian section.
Some of these trees are too huge to get all the tree in a photo.
On the way out. The rest had to wait for another day.

Winter Afternoon


No wind, stringy high clouds block a bit of blue.

Someone bounces a ball next door,

I hear the intermittent sound.

Suddenly several dogs bark across the golf course green,

Suddenly stop.

Across the turquoise pool water burnt orange leaves waft downward,

some land on the pale gold rocks,

some float at the pool’s terracotta edge,

others lay across the dark green rosemary bushes.

Bird song I cannot identify fills the background.

Two men, voices loud, banter –they’re neighbors, friends.

One of their small children cries, stops, cries again.

A late day golfer strides a ball, shouts.

Breeze arises, quits, more leaves fall,

the pool and birdbath water slightly ripple.

The lemons glow against the dark green leaves,

a painting emerald and bright yellow.

I sit beside the African multi-colored granite table my son made,

admire the colors:

-succulents called fire sticks match the falling leaves.

shades of orange, red, and green.

-the pots that house them match the dark blue of the pool’s old fashioned

Mexican tile.

-roses still display a few blossoms, dark red, pale pink, peach.

Tomorrow the gardener will trim them back to help them bloom lushly n spring.

-the oleander, still green, quit blooming weeks ago.

-rosemary loves this time of year, covers itself with tiny, fragrant, grey-blue flowers.

-in the distance mountains arise, a purple haze.

Now, no sounds, only silence.

I sit in the quiet beauty, write, drink green tea, feel grateful.

Winter Evening


Orange pink shadows ripple across the turquoise pool water.

Pumpkin colored and purple leaves drift across the rosemary,

land, bright little boats floating across the turquoise water.

A phoebe, dressed in his grey tuxedo coat and white tie,

flits along the red tile at water’s edge.

Green, minuscule, a hummingbird hovers among the scarlet salvia.

Fuschia, peach, deep red roses glow in the setting sun.

Suddenly, howls break the evening silence.

Coyotes, joyful, sing to each other,

preparing for the nightly hunt.

Fuerte


An “exercise” to write a poem about ones origins with the words I am from… inspired me to write this poem.

I am from the dark side of the moon, blood born, secretly shining.

Fuerte

I am from puma, stalking your memories, invading your minds,.

Fuerte

I am from Gottlieb, who left Swiss mountains 150 years ago at 18 to avoid

becoming a mercenary, moved to Missouri, created a farm. His cultivator

sets in my front garden.

Fuerte

I am from persons Gujarati, Bengali, Punjabi, who sailed seas, met strangers, loved.

Fuerte

I am from Esan, a Nigerian tribe about which I knew nothing until a DNA test revealed,

ancient, black, beautiful.

Fuerte

I am from Latin America, Colombian, Peruvian, Puerto Rican–wanderers, explorers.

Fuerte

I am from Slavic peoples. Byzantine, Macedonian, Alexander the Great.

Fuerte

I am from brave wandering ancestors–Asian, Latin, Toscani Italian, French, German, Swiss, Slavic, Iberian.

Fuerte

I am from J haploid group, people who left the northern Middle East 7000 years ago,

wandered, explored, populated Western Europe.

Fuerte

I am from farmers, Doyle and Barbara, who grew corn, wheat, soybeans, Hereford and Charolaise cattle

to whom I carried salt blocks as a child.

Fuerte

I am from Sacred Corn, the nourisher, singing on hot summers, growing.

Fuerte

I am from the sweet smell of Jasmine, Roses, Honeysuckle, winding up walls, overgrowing gardens,

giving people hope.

Fuerte

I am from lemons, figs, dates, pomegranates, golden, dark, red, tropical, lingering.

Fuerte

I am from Stars, universal child, born on sacred ground, singing infinite songs.

Fuerte