sandy soil with a side of loam.

This is a good soil profile. I leave for Pinecrest in 2 hours. Yay.

Places: Lake Lagunitas

Last Friday, Joyce and I had dinner in Fairfax. It was nice to be out of the city and be reminded there are other places to live. Fairfax is this funny little town where older hippies still live, or rich kinda hippies move so they can pretend that they are old hippies that drive hybrids. As a result? Good food and lots of little stores selling amber necklaces. She took me up to the Lake Lagunitas Watershed-- I didn't even know there were lakes in Marin County. The lake and surrounded oak/pine areas were beautiful; I bet it's a fantastic place to hike. Made me want to move.

Nature meets Life: bees, bees, and dead trees

The neighborhood I grew up in was once a walnut orchard. We had seven trees in our yard and picking up walnuts was a very common chore for my sister and I. Like, all the time and especially after church on Sundays. Gradually, the trees died off, until all we had was one in the backyard and one in the frontyard on the corner where the school kids pass.

And that tree became a home to bees. The tree died, but because there were bees in it, the City didn't want to cut it down. Finally, they realized that, yes, bees are in trouble population-wise right now, but this hive is near a school path, is untended, and growing steadily in a dead tree (also a hazard).

So, the City cut it down. They had to kill the bees because the hive was inside, and while they were annihilating said hive, my dad moseyed outside and asked if he could have the honeycomb. He's a curious guy, wanted to check it out, and thought it was going to be a small piece of the tree. Nope. The city put the entire tree section by the garage.

A few hours later, my parents are out and I stop by after a Ptown site visit. Parking my car in the driveway, I was about to get out when I noticed a bee by my door. And then one on my windshield. And then flying allllll over. I looked around and saw this:

Closer look? here:

I was so confused. Why did my parents have a bee hive? Why was it sitting by the gate? Is this a new garden experiment? Crap, I'm moving my car!

Every bee that had been out foraging when the hive was destroyed, had returned home. They were zooming around the moved stump, wandering aimlessly in the vicinity of the ghost-tree. Scientifically, it was fascinating. In practice, it was a bit sad.

My dad eventually called the City to come and take care of the stump, and it vanished before you could blink an eye. The whole situation made me think about bees and urban populations, local gardens, and local propagation. Not everyone is okay with it, as shown by the destroying of the Hayes Valley Farm bee hives earlier this week. Honey bees. We totally take them for granted.

Literally the little things

Should you ever have a bad day or feel kindof down, I can only hope you are as lucky as I am and come home to something like this small note on a bag of beans:

My neighbor is from Russia and she is the best.

Yo. 31.

(Not pictured: Erin and Rachel)

31, hey how you doin'? Right?

Goooodness. Time flies. The year of the 30 came and went and now here I am, fully entrenched in those 30 somethings. Over the cusp, onto the slope. Did I just infer the ride is all downhill from here? Nahhhh, that was accidental. I'm sure there will be bumps.

I have always wanted to have a bookswap in my home and this birthday seemed the most perfect excuse to do so. Lovely ladies crowded into my apartment, and my bed was PILED with books. Good vibes, good people, good reads -- way too much fun! A good way to start the year, if I do say so myself.

Also, on the actual day, Mom, Dad, Sissy, and I went to lunch in downtown Pleasanton:

Wednesday night, Bill and I went to Flour+Water. That place has super good food and fun vibe, as long as you are prepared to make an evening of it and not go to a show after. We chatted and gabbed during our hour wait, and then chowed on awesome pizza and pasta and chocolate yummy dessert thing.

And that, was my birthday.

During the week: model mottles

Two things.

One- Jen and I were out at a field site on Wednesday (where they unfortunately found a body last Sunday... yeah, that's a different, more exciting and sad story), and we were conducting a wetland delineation. I dug a soil pit and found the above soil clump -- it was orange with mottling, which is basically the reduction of iron. This is what happens when water moves slowly through soil and is one of the features we use to identify wetland habitat. The color was so bright and dense!

Two- Look. At. My. Nails. A few days ago, I had a manicure to celebrate the end of rigorous field work, a treat if you will, and then realized I had to go and do a delineation. I shoveled. I had hands covered in mud and clay. Not a chip! Seriously, Sensi Nails in the Inner Sunset rules (and is only $28 for a manicure AND pedicure).

During the week: disappearing into the landscape

Field work wrapped up at the Lake this week. We were scheduled for more time out there, but we are rockstar field warriors and powered through all the surveys real quick-like. TomM and I won for most time spent at the Lake. We should get stars or gold plated walkies or something. Lessons learned and reflections? Sure. See here:

• Despite the rattlesnake population being "5x" higher than ever this year, I did not see a single rattle snake. I spent the first three days out there moving the speed of molasses, and tapping every rock before approaching. By the end, I was plowing through fields, still aware, still observant, but much more confident. I also had on snake gators that covered the lower half of my legs. Man. Do those things make you sweat.
• Physicality. This was the hardest field work I have ever done, and because I wanted to do my share (I was usually the only girl; Amy spent a week too), I pushed myself beyond my usual comfort zone. The resultant discovery was that I am capable of way more than I ever thought I was. That is so rad.
• It's a weird day at work when you have these two thoughts:

"If I fall, I hope I don't hit my head and lose consciousness before hitting the lake."

"Wow, it's a good thing I have been rock climbing. Otherwise, I would have totally fallen off that cliff."

• Being the only girl surrounded by super dudely dudes is very educational and entertaining. I learned about hygiene dogma, the ability to tune out voices at a certain pitch, chewing tobacco, and the refreshing nature of Coors Light on tap.
• I am completely comfortable in pine forests. They feel like home. Oak woodlands make me nervous.
• Circling Ospreys giving warning calls are no joke. Back away.
• Coyote pups are possibly the cutest things EVER.
• Carp are dumb and lazy fish. They will fight for bread you throw in the water. They will not eat tobacco chew (Aaron tested this theory).
• I am convinced Lake Marina makes boaters sign a contract agreeing only to play Kid Rock, Pussycat Dolls, or Nickleback on all boats on the lake. Associated hooting and hollering must also occur when wake boarders and/or skiers attain the standing position. In addition, if boaters see biologists sweating on steep hillsides or hanging on cliffs, they must swing as close as possible for mocking purposes and to incite jealousy in those clipboard carriers.
• Old Navy flip flops float. Old Navy flip flops on a lake will all congregate in one area, searching for their mate, which is probably in a boat somewhere or in a tree. It's the truest dating pool! (zing!)

For my job, I do a lot of field work. Most the sites are small, single day visits, and they tend to meld into a blended hodgepodge memory. The time I spent at the Lake will always stand out -- we spent weeks out there, and our project team was rad. The trip also had amazing contrasts: I was surrounded by my team most the time (talking, laughing, driving, boating, discussing, debating, listening to Metallica really loud), but then there were stark periods of isolation, where I would be up on a hillside with no one in earshot, no boats coming around, and none of that ambient noise that happens in the city. I would stop, and sit on a rock for a moment and drink it in; sweaty and dirty and listening.

During the week: way up

Today, we climbed a big hill. I was very happy to reach the top. Also? I love my handkerchief. It's the best piece of field equipment ever. That said, I also love my walking stick and am considering carrying it around all the time. Even in San Francisco.

blurry but still

During the week: wild and scenic

Week three for me out at the Lake. While the field days are still tough as all get out, I can't ignore how beautiful the lake and surrounding areas are. The morning boat ride is best: glass-smooth lake, no wind, and few boaters.

We headed up the main river than flows into the Lake yesterday. Three months ago, this river was literally a trickle -- maybe fifteen feet wide at most. With the snow melt, the river is a beast, and we have to watch for the rocks that would form rapids at lower water levels (see Nate in the above photo, searching). Now, they'll just ruin our propeller.

The river is wild and scenic, meaning that the river is preserved in its free-flowing condition and no one can divert, realign, or put in a Starbucks. The view was incredible. I suggested we survey the rest of the river starting upstream, and canoe or inner-tube on down. Crew? Enthused. Not sure the client would be.

Speaking of the view, where I am standing in the above photo is where the previous photo was taken. My teammate, Tom, said he had to take my photo because "when you're like 80 you have to show your grandkids what you used to do." You may not be able to tell from afar, but I am covered in streaks of soot in this photo. We had to hike through burned out chemise chaparral to progress along the hillside. It was not fun. We both got dirty and grumpy although the view and a nice breeze helped a bit.

This week, I have two more days out here, and then four next week. So. Ten days down, six to go. Woot.