Storm Day

Ah, another storm day. I went back to the ocean today to take a walk from Manhattan Beach to El Segundo. El Segundo had a street faire with crafts, handmade objects, art, clothing, food, along with entertainment. While on my walk there which is a little over a mile and half, I took pictures and enjoyed the changing dramatic scenery. It rained but not very much. Soft drops. This above picture is of Manhattan Pier (the red roofed aquarium at the end). The blue in the way backdrop (between the end of Palos Verdes and the pier) is Catalina Island. There are white clouds sitting on the top. :)
This picture is looking South, yes South, towards Redondo Beach and the rest of the Palos Verdes Peninsula. Reason for the low visibility? RAIN!! They are sure getting a soakin'. I seemed to be in the perfect location as even though it rather rained lightly, I was hardly wet. And I was even hot with my long sleeve shirt and sweatshirt.
And this is looking North. Wow!! Could not see Santa Monica or the Santa Monica Mountains. Actually, I did wake up during the night. I had thought coming out of my dream state that the airplane was so loud and so unusually close. But realized it must have been a thunderous thunderclap and roll. Happened only once to my knowledge.
The previous series of photos is what I saw out on the beach (two of them). This one at the El Segundo beach. On the normal day this trench is covered over by sand; never knew it existed. Now I understand why there is a crisis beach clean - up after storms. The beach is littered with more trash than usual, especially congregating around these outlets that open up during storms. I was not prepared today but definitely will be in the future--to clean up that rubbish! Maybe a good idea I was not out in my tent (that I do not even possess for that matter), because I may have unwittingly placed myself about these outlets. And whoosh, away I go out to sea! I am starting to laugh just thinking about it. Ah dear.

And yes, by the time I reached El Segundo, sunny sunny--with the exception of the North and South areas.
And so was the day out on the LA coast. I saw a hawk (peregrine Falcon-do they actually exist in these parts?) flying with a fish in its talons and a score of seagulls in pursuit. Did not have my camera handy for this glorious sight.

Coastal Storm

So. A storm in LA. Well the storm seems to be more centrally located out at sea but we got the rain. People have been talking up a storm (haha) about the reported rain/thunderstorm for the weekend. It has gotten quite a bit cooler in the last week. So cool I was starting to think, ah Autumn is coming.

Today was sunny enough, but when I left after work and looked East to the coast. The big clouds coming in. I went racing home to get some errands done and then out to the beach to take pictures and admire the storm. It has not rained in 150 days. The last time it rained was on Good Friday. We needed the good soaking. The air is "much fresher." Not too fresh though but the smog has been very low. Wonderful. I like storms on the coast. It is so full of energy.

This is looking in the direction to Palo Verdes Peninsula (on far left of picture) but supposed to be full view of Catalina Island which is clouded over with some of the significant ominous clouds. It had not started to rain just yet. I could feel the rain coming closer and was fairly windy.
Just think, just a few weeks ago (like Labor Day weekend), the beaches were amassed with human bodies. One could barely see the sand between the people. I had seen a photo of that weekend. And now look at this picture, a small representation of what the beaches looked like for miles. The only inhabitants with me were the fellow seagulls and sandpipers and the pelicans riding the crests of the waves out at sea. There were some people granted out on the walkway for biking and such but not very many.
Then it started to rain. Big drops. Splat, Splat. I quickly got on my hat and rain coat. I do not mind getting wet but hearing aids are prime importance to stay dry. As long as I have dry hearing aids, everything is fine. Did my little rain celebration dance before hiking it back to the van to sit and read and listen to the rain come down. I did not take off right away so to let the roads get a good soaking before driving. And probably avoid some of the crazies who think they can go 50 mph on five minute fresh wet pavement with the oils coming out.

Yes, interrupted report! I just witnessed lightning. HA!!! My kind of storm. Almost wish to be out on the beach in a tent and letting the rain and wind rip through. Thunder? Was that faint thunder? If it was about six to eight miles away. So perhaps I will get my storm. The first storm of the season in anticipation of Autumn. Autumn is coming. My favorite season of the year. If we only had fall foliage around here.... but this is just as glorious. Coastal storms.

Watching the River Run

The rivers in my life. I am drawn to the waters ever taking them in with my senses, and ever pausing to listen, listen, listen...

There is a song, "Watching the River Run,"
that I call the song of father/daughter (namely my dad and I). I grew up with this song starting as a baby with the song sung to me like a lullaby. The song continued to be sung as I got older. And it continues to be sung even though Dad and I are miles apart in the physical sense but rather the song continues whenever we cherish the moments together in our hearts and spirit. For every time I pass a river, every time the words are sung on a breeze, they celebrate the love between father and daughter.

WATCHING THE RIVER RUN

If you've been thinking

You're all that you've got,

Then don't feel alone anymore,

'Cause when we're together,

Then you've got a lot,

For I am the river

And you are the shore. And it goes on and on,

Watching the river run,

Further and further

From things that we've done

Leaving them one by one

And we have just begun

Watching the river run;

List'ning and learning

And yearning;

Run, river, run.

Winding and turning

And dancing along,

We passed by the old willow tree,

Where friends embrace

As we sing them our song,

Rejoicing together

As we greet the sea.

And it goes on and on,

Watching the river run,

Further and further

From things that we've done

Leaving them one by one

And we have just begun

Watching the river run;

List'ning and learning

And yearning;

Run, river, run.

And it goes on and on,

Watching the river run,

Further and further

From things that we've done

Leaving them one by one

And we have just begun

Watching the river run;

List'ning and learning

And yearning;

Run, river, run.

One can also listen to a live recording from YouTube to get an idea of the flow of the song. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyIZXB1aJEM&NR=1

The song is written by Loggins and Messina"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs."

A River Runs through It; written by Norman Maclean.

A Love Story

I walk to work everyday. I am so spoiled! I walk through a fairly lively, colorful neighborhood filled with so many people from a variety of places. One of my neighbors is from Italy. I know there are dozens of other countries/ethnic backgrounds being represented here.

Every morning I walk to work and pass several people in clusters. Mostly are children on their way to school. There are schools in the neighborhood as well. And I pass daily a mother and her child. They look to be very friendly, indeed they are, and cheerful, as exhibited by the smiles and joyful greetings when we pass. With the exception of the summer interim, we see each other every day of the work/school week. All it is a greeting of hellos, how are you, have a good day sort of pleasantries as we keep walking by. Of course there are waves of hands and big smiles that accompany the vocal greetings.

School has started up again and happily I have seen the children back to walking the streets on their way to and from school. And among those I pass, this mother and child. However, there has been a change! Just a few days ago, the little girl stops me to ask my name. We introduce to each other. And small chit chat is exchanged between all of us (mother, child, and I). The child's name is Maria and the mother's name is I believe Wilma. She has an accent so it was hard to pick up all the vowels and sounds. Maria looks to be so happy, especially when we are passing and exchanging greetings.

Now this morning, I saw Maria and Wilma coming down the street. Already, I had a big smile on my face and could feel the happy energy from them. As I was passing this time, Maria was on the phone. She had smiled and said hello but was obviously engrossed in a conversation. Wilma explained to me that Maria was on the phone with her grandmother talking all about me. Me! What?? Have our exchanges although seems minor because of our smiles and greetings every day, can really have an impact? And so I have yet learned another lesson.

Even though Maria and Wilma continued on their way to school passing by, I had stopped and stood there watching them depart from me. I was awashed with love. Yes, love. I felt so loved right there in that moment and it continued to be felt throughout the day. If it was not for the love, I think I would have cried. Here is a little girl who looks forward to her walks to school with her mother because she passes by this girl (still view myself as a girl) that gives her great pleasure to see. So much pleasure, she goes calls her Grandmother and tells all about me. It seems like a small inconsenquence but to Maria, I might as well be her dear friend. And yet, each day I look forward to my walk to work because I pass by this girl (probably about 7 years of age) and mother who are so jovial and pleasant. To see them gives me a happy glow in my heart. Goes to show that the small things in life, even just a simple gesture of a smile, greeting can go a far way into the hearts of many. I love you Maria.

(Postscript: I know the picture does not seem to go with the story, but I chose it in picturing the beautiful birds of paradise like people. And since the story involves three individuals... so hence the underlying symbolism. *smile* ).

Coastal Ventures

I had a very special Labor Day weekend. Special because in many ways it was not planned until the last moment, up to a few days prior to Friday. Then again in many ways as life has it way, perhaps it was planned all along. So before I commence telling of the story, I will start from the beginning. As Labor Day weekend was approaching, I knew I wanted to get away to do something different than stay in LA for my three day holiday. As I thought about what possibilities I could do ranging from up in the mountains surrounding LA from the North or the deserts or the coast. As you can imagine, coast sounds better just because it has been so hot. I set my sights to the coastal north of LA. Where? Hmm... a plan never formulated. Why? Because I knew I was going somewhere but something told me to wait it out like something or someone will come. And indeed I actually told my co-workers I was leaving town for a destination yet to be revealed to me. So I waited and up to the last few days prior to the weekend was starting to wonder what I was waiting for. Was my little voice playing tricks on me? Come Wednesday evening I get a unbelievable surprise. One of my friends, Rachel, said that she and Swede were coming to California for the weekend to go adventuring up the coast to Carmel and the surrounding area. Believe me my roommates could hear me for miles if they were not in the house hearing me jumping around with glee and joy. So my inner voice was right. In fact I was thinking the voice was disappearing of sorts since being here in LA. LA is definitely not conducive to my lifestyle. But the fact that the voice is still there and at least I am hearing it makes me feel relieved.

And so now begins my tale. My friends arrived en route to our destination from Tempe Friday evening. We drive up to Salinas to stay overnight with a friend of Rachel's. We probably did not get there until sometime right after 1am but we had left my house a bit after 7pm and even had some LA traffic so I thought that was pretty good time.

We spent all of Saturday in Carmel. What a pretty little place. The main attraction besides our superb breakfast with kathy cakes at the Cottage and the ocean, was The Secret Garden and The Pilgrim's way. First, I start with the Secret Garden which is right behind The Pilgrim's Way through an alley. The Secret Garden is exactly such, a secret garden that offers many visual and auditory pleasures. Different plants, figurines, and gifts are present in this semi-outdoor garden.

This picture was actually taken outside of the Secret Garden along the flower beds of the street. But pretty nevertheless. I like the yellow with the green stripes. The secret garden had a lot of succulents but also plants like bamboo and flower plants that looked exotic.

One may not see it very well but this is the view of the place from the streets. The sign says Pilgrim's Way Books. And that is where we spent a significant portion of our time in Carmel. Who would not, thinks I. Books, books, books. Swede and Rachel may not know this but I put real restraint on myself but made dozens of mental notes of titles and authors. It is my kind of bookstore and worth the miles to drive up to visit it. Like a pilgrimage in a way.

And then we spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening at the beach in Carmel. We found a quiet spot overlooking this quiet, small bay. Our time was spent reading, Swede playing his guitar, talking, beachcombing, running, and making sand art. Perfect! We sat by this big Cyprus tree which it's roots were unfortunately giving way because of the sand erosion. However, I am sure the beautiful Cyprus was happy to have us for company close by.

We returned while the sun was setting. So beautiful and the smells just glorious, especially with the eucalyptus trees. We then went to the store to get salad fixings and wine to bring back to the beach with our blankets and enjoy dinner and discussion out on the beach. We went to a different beach that was quite open and a group of folks offered their dying campfire when they were leaving. So we had some warmth of a fire and the beach. Beautiful evening with the stars so bright and the milky way and then the moon rising to cast the glow on the waves, water, and sand. I even saw a shooting star, which is something that I have not seen in a long time (partly because the city lights do not do justice for star gazing). And now looking back, hmm, I did not make a wish or maybe I did but just do not know it. I think I will remember that evening for a long, long time. Swede had said something that this is the way life should be with friends around the fire, out with nature, and sharing time together. Rachel then says, "No, this is the way life is." And so very true. Blessings in every way. Rachel went to sleep while Swede and I stayed up till midnight talking. Now there is another part of the story of how our evening ended but honestly, to write it here will take too long. I still laugh just thinking of the events that transpired. For those who want to know, ask me personally and I will tell you. hehe

Come Sunday, we start to drive down the coast on the famous Pacific Coast Highway 1. So I got to see the glorious coastline of Big Sur once again. And come to think of it, probably one of the most beautiful coastlines I have ever experienced. There are some places in Washington/BC/UK that come close. There are no words to express such scenery and the feelings in my heart. All I can do is just soak it in. Each time I pass through I come away a new person.

The ocean so vast here with brilliant colors of blues and the shimmering water. The rugged coastline like never seen before. Even just looking at the above picture, I can lose myself all over again and in the process start to rediscover myself.
We continued to have fun as we camped out at Pismo State Beach and continued our journey down PCH 1. We stayed at Refugio State Beach to spend a few hours reading, Swede playing his guitar, and enjoying the beach.

It was quite the extraordinary weekend. One I will treasure for a very long time. So very perfect to spend some time with two very dear friends on a coastal venture like this. Pure bliss.

V is for Venice

"V" stands for Venice Beach. And there I was several weekends ago in July helping out with Heal the Bay beach clean up. I have been to Venice twice now. The first time was when Paul, my roommate from Tempe, came to visit me during Easter weekend. This time I did it alone. The part I was in is considered relatively safe because of the number of cops around but there are parts, like where my landlord used to live, where you do not want to be around. But if you are in LA, Venice is a place where one should stop to look around (the Venice Beach boardwalk). My relatives from Brooklyn did that when they breezed through LA.

I came to Venice bright and early that Saturday morning. Even beat the Heal the Bay volunteers. So walked the beach a bit.

This may be deceiving in the sense for seaweed but in reality it is full of garbage. Plastic, clothes, balloons, strings, and other odds and ends that is toxic to the environment come ashore. We are close to Balona Creek which bring out tons of rubbish to sea. While we may consider beach clean ups to be helping. The real need is to clean the streets of LA. It is where it all starts. If there is a cleaner city, cleaner water ways. But I witness people throwing trash on the ground periodically. Like today, a bus driver asks me for a glass of water (at my work when picking up some clients). I go and get her a glass of water. While I am standing there making sure the clients get settled on the bus. I see her finish her glass of water and she tosses the cup just behind me on the ground. I see her face. Not a care in the world, like it is typical to dump unwanted rubbish on the ground. I go and pick it up. It is sad. The street cleaners hardly do a dent but rather congregate the trash elsewhere.

And so I spent the majority of my morning picking up the rubbish. There were a lot of people there helping out. Two groups from Surfriders and a local yoga club were there as well. And I was picking up trash with a group of young Japanese teenagers. All of them were speaking Japanese and I have no idea why they seem to like follow me around... perhaps I found the best places for the mass amount of rubbish? We were all ambitious in filling our bags and getting more.

Now while this is all happening on the beach. Swing 180 degrees to the land and this is the sight you see. I took the tour through the famous Venice Beach boardwalk. It is hard to describe and even capture with a camera. One really needs to be there in person to experience it. And so I leave you with a few photos of snapshots of the infamous boardwalk.

Muscle beach. Where I am told Arnold Swartzengger started it all in America. Is that actually true, who knows.

Street performers. Believe me the cobras are real. There was a two headed turtle being shown at a local "Freak show." Poor animals.

Now, this was an interesting story. The group that was connected with "SAVE OUR MOTHER EARTH, THE POWER OF LOVE" was a group that I would say dressed like those who come from the North African continent and even the middle East. They had their drums and were singing away. The big sign said that they were the lost tribe of Israel. I guess one of the tribes got lost from the 12 that were sent out? But they were proclaiming peace and goodwill to all. That was a theme seen periodically. LOVE. LOVE your neighbor, LOVE nature, Peace. Very hippy. And there were bonafide hippies who i thought looked like had remained in some time capsule. Because of the dress, attitude and such.

And other stuff like this. "MEAT IS MURDER" There was another stand that was anti Bush Administration. Even though I do not exactly favor the Bush administration, there were some downright ugly words being professed in bumper stickers and handouts.

And so this continued for about a mile or so. It really is an odd place. Where everything comes together. Bizarre, cool, and perplexing. I am not sure if there is any place quite like it. At least that I have experienced. Hippies, druggies. There were guys about my age asking for donations so they could buy some much needed marijuana. There were times I was wondering where in hell am I? I felt like I was caught between some time era but confusing. It was like a comedy at times. I am the audience looking around. And indeed at one point I just stopped and started laughing, laughing and laughing. Some passerby probably thought I was part of the "act" too. There are a few stores of interest that I liked and stopped in and ended up chatting with one of the owners of the store. He was trying to get me to buy a hammock. I fancy a hammock but have no place to put one. And so we ended up talking. In itself that was different for me because I am rarely chit chatting with people. This is LA, land of unfriendly people as they say.

And in the midst of all that. I look to the ocean for some grounding as the ocean and water for me is a place of tranquility, and I happen to catch someone doing just the same. It was a rather interesting moment in time as I remembered. Right at the moment when I was thinking everything is so bizarre and crazy, I look for a sense of focus, inner collectiveness. And it is there. So real to me. I see this fellow meditating and all around me everything just seems to disappears, non-exist as it becomes only he, I and the ocean/sand before me. Then as briefly as this moment came, it was gone. The buzz of activity comes back and I am once again in the world that so often we think is they reality of our daily lives.

Family times

So here I am again. Overdue with the blogging, quite so. Since I am so far behind, I still need to start from the beginning of my absence. For the Fourth of July weekend/week, I was on the East Coast (Hopkinton, NH and Cape Cod, MA) visiting with family. The primary focus was the celebration of my Great Uncle Larry's birthday (80 years). Above is picture of some of my family. Actually I realized I only took pictures of this circle quite often. How can I not, they are so entertaining. This is my Uncle Pete. You got to love him. Always posing for the perfect shots. I am not sure what he is doing in this picture but always makes me smile. :) It is fun to listen to all of the stories he tells. A storyteller in many sense. Also, shocked that after all of these years, he did not want to take a drive with me. Hmm.... At least a few of my friends have braved the driving with me and came out with no harm, at least none that I know of... and this was driving in LA.This is the reason for my poor representation of the family at large. My cousin, Maya, and I seemed to go on this photo frenzy of each other. My aunt, Priscilla, Maya's mother, is sitting next to her. They are from Brooklyn. And I will be seeing them tomorrow in Maibu! Hurrah!!
This is a better picture of Maya that I have without a camera nearby. She is my youngest cousin in the immediate family not including cousins once, twice, third times removed and so on. Twelve years apart.
The celebration/reunion was spent in Cape Cod. Otherwise I spent the rest of my holiday in the woods of New Hampshire at the family cabin. Very quaint and a perfect place to get away, especially from the crazed scene of LA proper.
I actually got to sleep out on the screened porch on night. The rest of the nights my parents were sleeping out here. I had to really "fight" for the opportunity. Because who would not want to sleep out here being lulled to sleep with the calm waters moving about on Rolph Pond and the bull frogs croaking, and the snakes slithering through the waters. And waking up to the chorus of birds and fishes jumping with the morning or evening sun.
The family cabin sits right on Rolph pond. Amidst the glorious woods that carries their voices around and all over with the breezes blowing through, speaking in the different words of centuries of living and seeing. Sometimes it amazes me what the trees do live through. This is an area that the trees are old enough to talk about the events during the Revolutionary times and war, when this country of America was just beginning. And yet even older to recall earlier times with the existing natives of these lands living with the earth as one. If only I could understand their words; only in my dreams do they truly speak out.
Ah, yes the traditional food of New England. I do not eat these creatures because I have a food reaction to seafood/fish. But they are cute. And of course some vegetarians are probably come after me about animal cruelty. As lobster are cooked rather cruelly if one thinks about it. They are boiled alive which becomes their death. Poor guys. I heard they are yummy.
This is my favorite licence plate in all of the United States. "LIVE FREE OR DIE!" Good motto. And as my dad considers one of its kind. Because the Ol' Man in the Mountain on the plate if one can see it, does not exist anymore. He fell to his demise when the rocks finally gave way. Poor guy. Hint: By the way Ol' Man is the image of a man's face on the side of the granite wall, if you are having a hard time deciphering who Ol' Man is.
Ah, more family time. Did I not tell you, my Uncle Pete is quite the storyteller. What amazing stories he must be telling right now as he points to some object of fascination. Stories are already being created in my mind. My Aunt Barbara is also shown here (the one closest to the photographer, me). She and Pete live in Maine. And the other two are of course my parents. Need I say anything more of my parents who are the wild adventurers of the globe trotters. Distance lands call them all the way from Thailand. Where to next, I often wonder.
The reason for the picnic was because we attended the concert on the green in Manchester Vermont with the Vermont Symphony Orchestra. They were playing some incredible pieces. And ended with the 1812 Overture and fireworks going off. Very impressive, especially with the sounds echoing in the valley and off the mountains. (There is a continued debate as to whether the mountains in New England are really mountains anymore but instead hills.) Mountains or no, there is ancient history that lives and breathes through the woods and mountains. One can feel it. And if you listen, you will hear them. Sounds silly? Just go and spend a few days in the wilderness of North New Hampshire or even in Maine. Look at all the books by the New England naturalists. One of their kind.
And so here I spent a few days with much laughter, stories, and adventures that only can be had with family. I now wish I could have stayed longer to soak in the environment of nature some more. I definitely needed it when I returned back to LA. Since my return work has been a bit crazy with low staff ratios that makes work a bit difficult at times among other events of the going ons at work. And then coming down with the nasty cold that is spreading like wildfire around LA. I think I was especially knocked hardest just because I am a foreigner to this part of California and not used to the bugs that go around just yet. Ah well. I still have a few adventures since returning to tell for another time.