Stare at Lake Merrit

Music Concourse of course

During a break in the weather this past weekend (it's June for Pete's sake!), a small group of us went for a walk and found ourselves in my favorite spot in the city.  The Music Concourse has been under construction for years, but finally the fountains are running, the trees are planted, and a ton of San Franciscans and tourists were taking advantage of the pretty space.  To either side of the concourse are the De Young Museum and the California Academy of Sciences -- there is such a vibe of learning and exploring and creativity, I just love it.  An official San Francisco historic landmark, the Concourse has it's own support group.  More info/history here.

Moment.

Misdirections Magic, 9th Avenue, San Francisco

In Spring, things grow

Look at baby Diego!

 February 2011

June 2011!

Someone else (but not so else-like)

The Trephine decided to reduce all of her belongings to what would fit in her car.  Not only was she amazed at what she decided to keep (much like the 'what would you take' of the burninghouse blog --- more on that soon) but she learned this valuable lesson, which I found startling, shocking, and upon reflection, likely true:

The less you own, the harder it is to hide from everything still wrong with you. All of the dreams you have yet to realize, even now that your childhood is startlingly far behind you, are suddenly so much more starkly visible once you can’t distract yourself by petting fabric swatches or rearranging your bookshelves. 

We’re always saying life is short, but honestly, if you stop staring at paint chips and shopping for throw pillows and arranging vases, if you have so little clothing (let alone accessories like scarves, necklaces, or earrings, of which I own none) that choosing an outfit is hardly an artistic endeavor, you would be surprised at how much time you have and how absolutely terrifying it can feel to have nowhere to put that energy. 

You become almost the only particularly notable thing you own, and experimenting with rearranging a bookshelf into a rainbow pattern, it turns out, is far easier than experimenting with rearranging oneself. Where does one even begin?

- The Trephine

During the week: just another day

This time of year, I spend a lot of days doing this.  I walk around, look at and count plants, note erosion, pull tics off my pant legs, and occasionally see snakes.  In the photo above, I am standing on a berm on a constructed wetland (the wetland is to my left).  Obviously, we need to do some work here -- this berm is eroding away which means the wetland isn't holding water as long as it should and not supporting the water-loving plants we would like to grow there.  Mark, our landscape architect, made me be in the photo for scale.  I was like, dude, what if I was a giant?  This could actually be the Grand Canyon and I make it look tiny!

Also, Crosby tells me I look like a boy when I'm in the field.  I think I look prepared.  However, I am trying to remedy this situation and purchased a hot pink field shirt.  Photos soon.

I walked 5.5 miles and mapped this plant...

Federally threatened Chorizanthe pungens var. pungens next to a very pretty Castilleja I have yet to identify!!!!

little buzzing

Hey there tarweed. And your little friend too!

Of the New

 New Bike!  Oh, the days of my fluorescent green Huffy mountain bike have long past (although that beauty lasted my from 6th grade through college!) and I now have my first new bike in years!  It's so pretty.

Tara and I went riding along the Marina towards Fort Point.  The strong wind made our super powerful pedaling completely useless.  So, that was hard, but we made it and the way back felt like flying!  Also, we passed a Frenchman fighting the wind shouting "Merde!"  Funny Frenchman.

Flower Note.

Bent flower fiddleneck (Amsinckia lunaris), CNPS List 1B.  Pretty much the healthiest fiddlenecks I have ever seen.