I’m taking a break from the Nordic cruise, which we took in the early spring. Here’s what the Central Coast of California is looking like lately.
I’d passed by the San Luis Obispo County Botanical Garden in El Chorro Regional Park several times a week for the past 4 and 1/2 years. The hillsides this time of year are dry and golden, the oak trees giving plenty of shade. It was past time to take a walk in the garden, to try to identify those pesky volunteer plants that survive my gardener’s neglect. It was a quick 6 mile drive inland from the coast. Off came the sweatshirt, on went the sun hat.
Entering through a cheerful purple bridge over a dry creek bed, the buzz of the bees and the stone steps pulled me into the garden. Even in this late season, after the driest year I remember, there were flowers that lingered.
Someone had thoughtfully labeled the plants, so I began my study, searching out species I’d seen but couldn’t name and verifying names I thought I knew. These botanical gardens are so helpful – I love their handy identification tags and descriptions. I walked around clucking with surprise at names I would never have guessed (propeller plant?) and humming with agreement at the more familiar (so many types of aloe.)
California FuchsiaPomPomStrawberry Bush
All the species are adapted to the dry California climate. Like these:
And some blossoming plants served a higher purpose, helping a special little creature steal the show…
almost camouflaged
…and keep stealing the show…
again and again.
Hummingbird beauty
loves that
propeller plant.
See the pollen?
One of my favorites, an aloe plant, surprised me. This one was huge and stood up from the ground, showing me a new variation on my old favorite.
On the way out from the garden, I came across the peskiest plant in my yard, one that keeps finding new places to sprout. Now, instead of inventing bad names, I know what to call it.
From one side of the country to the other, I am still loving lavender. I had just returned from Ohio, where I fell in love with the herb. I knew California was a much more friendly climate to the plant, so I looked up local lavender and found an entire festival to celebrate it that very weekend.  Central Coast Lavender Festival, in Paso Robles, was only a 40 minute drive from home, so of course, I made plans to attend.
The town of Paso Robles is just over the coastal hills from us, a hotter and drier climate, perfect for lavender cultivation. I had driven through Paso Robles hundreds of times and visited other areas of the town, but never had I seen the lovely central downtown park. I had heard of its charm and of its many restaurants, so I was eager for the visit.
Charming dowtown Paso Robles
Paso Robles is a wine-country destination, famous for its vineyards. It draws people from all over the world to visit the wineries. The food scene there is keeping up with the call from the tourists: fresh, local, organic meals that compliment the local wines. I knew that several of these restaurants were in the downtown square. Lavender and a good meal? It would be a pleasant Saturday.
As we drove into town, I wondered if I should have gotten more specific directions. I knew basically where I was going, but the details were hazy. Actually, since I’d never been to this particular area, the details in my head were non-exsistent. But it seemed like it would be simple, and it was. Up ahead as I drove into town was a throng of people. Logic would have it that that was where the festival would be, and today, logic prevailed. I found easy parking nearby, grabbed my hat, and walked toward the crowd. Just down to the end of the block was one of the most pleasant downtowns I’d ever seen. Why had I not visited before?
Paso Robles can get hot in the summer. I left home enjoying 68 degrees F (20 degrees C) and arrived to the festival in 90 degrees F (32 degrees C.) But the downtown square was designed to keep people out of the sun, with trees shading the sidewalks and a huge canopy of greenery towering over the entire park-like square. Today, the aroma of lavender pulled me toward the booths, laid out along the walkways of the outdoor plaza.
lots of people
lots of lavender bags
Lavender-colored bags were handed out to everyone, encouraging us all to fill them with not only live plants, but also lavender essential oil, lavender soap, lavender spray, lavender sachets, lavender tea. Then there were all the other items that accompany festivals in California: hand-crafted wooden bird houses and cutting boards, hand-crafted beads and jewelry, hand-made hats and baskets and clothing.
Under the cool oaks
Under the enormous live oaks, people cheerfully sold and others bought whatever their desires or pocketbooks allowed. Entertainers took their turns providing music and dance and authorities gave information about the benefits of lavender. Apparently, it helps every known ailment. As I walked the pathways, I enjoyed the outdoor scent of lavender, the sound of people enjoying themselves, talking and laughing, and the sight of a California main square restored to perfection.
90 degrees F or 32 C, it is pretty hot without the shade
lots of lavender stuff, but lots of all sorts of stuff, too.
I escaped the growing heat by sitting down to a nice lunch at the corner deli. A crowded gathering had enticed me to finally visit this buzzing downtown. Why had I waited so long? Now, I looked around the square, planning my next visit. Which restaurant would I try on my return?
At times, I complain about our rugged American walking life. We have trails, not walking paths. We walk in rustic, remote national parks, not through our cities. I have even – a time or two – been driven away from a walk by nature itself. But today, I am offering a tribute to walking with wildlife all around. It can be a remarkable and reviving experience of renewal. Isn’t that exactly why we walk?
I take a daily stroll around my central California coastal neighborhood. After four years living here, it still is refreshingly new. It is also more rugged than refined. The first thing I do is cross the famous Pacific Coast Highway, State Route One, always on the list for the world’s most beautiful and dangerous highways. The second thing I do is head for my usual path to the beach, filled with sand and stickers and the changeable route through the dunes.
just another rustic path?
Today, the third thing I did on this walk was stop in the middle of the path for this:
S/he’s a beauty.
S/he didn’t move, and I worried. Should I just step around? Should I be concerned for its health? It wasn’t a rattlesnake, so I wasn’t afraid. It – a gopher snake? – looked to me like it had just eaten something quite big,
there’s a big lump right there
so I knew it might just be in that after-glow of a good meal. Snakes don’t loosen their belts, they lull.
A veeeery long snake…
at least 5 feet, and I couldn’t quite see the tail.
I retreated, and took a different path through the dunes.
Horses have accompanied me on every single walk I have ever taken on this beach. One or two or sometimes three ride along together. Today, a herd was there.
Tourists had to
jump out of the way
herd rode by.
Look closely, some were riding bareback. They frolicked and circled and raced and the riders hooted and laughed. When there are twenty horses and twenty people involved in this amount of hoop-la, it’s noticeable, even above the thunder of the surf. And then the horses and riders actually did surf. Or very nearly.
My usual walks also include a lot of this
and that
And if I am lucky, I can climb the steps up the bluff at the turn-around point of my walk, sit for awhile and watch nature’s show. Today, the show was spectacular.
lucky me
not a shark
As I sat, I laughed at the antics of the dolphins: dance routines, couple jumps, splashes that looked like pure fun. I admired the skill of the pelicans: their patient search and precise spray as they entered the water for the catch.
I stared into the horizon, hoping to see evidence of those enormous creatures that inhabit our coastline in the summer. I know they are there. But sometimes, I have to be satisfied with that knowledge, and not the sight of the blue and humpback whales.
This summer, I have seen a lot of them. They have been almost too close to the shore at times, almost dangerously close. Today they stayed in the hazy distance, treating me with occasional evidence of their seasonal trip. Like the human vacationers who come in droves, the whales come also each summer.
look at the very left hand side for the last bit of spray from the whale’s spout (and the whale, of course)These two are so, so much larger than the photo shows!
While I sat, a three-ring circus entertained me, including a pod of dolphins, fishing pelicans and whales in the distance. On the way back home, I checked on the overly-full snake, but found it wasn’t blocking the path any longer. Today’s walk was filled with the wildlife I have seen all my life. Not a city-life walk, but a walk peopled with creatures that have been my walking companions for a long, long time.
To my knowledge, pelicans don’t walk much. But I love to walk alongside them as they fly, out above the waves. These sergeant-majors of the seas patrol our area, and they come out in force during springtime and stay all summer. I welcome their return with my walk today, and was fortunate that they were in a mood to entertain.
On patrol
How can people say they are not beauties? Their over-sized beaks and broad wings reward them with a beautiful catch, over and over.
beauti
ful
Watch for the splashes. My camera and I do not agree about push and click. By the time I pushed, the pelican was probably already diving, and by the time the camera took the shot, there was only splash. Two different times, with two competent pelicans. They tried to make it easy for me.
First Splash
Second Splash
The second one stalled to let me gather my failing photographic skills. He is the one lifting off again after a successful catch, ready to scout the area for more.
Watch this magnificent dive. I love the way they search, spot and then set-up their dive. The final upside-down reverse puts them head first into the water. Amazing creatures.
Searching
Sighting
As I walk, I see some tag-a-longs. The gulls must have noticed the school of fish. They follow the skillful pelicans, landing nearby for a chance at left-overs.
The pelican entertainment today makes my walk a bit longer in time, not distance. But who can resist stopping and looking at these spectacular birds, to say nothing of the other sights along the way. Hope you have a great walk today.
When you live where you can walk along a beautiful path every day, you are a lucky sort. I am a lucky sort – these views never get old. Many places in world are beautiful, and the Central California coastline where I live is one.
I leave my shoes by the dunes, and fight with the dry sand to get to the water’s edge. Barefoot walking, in and out of the tide, soothes my feet. The sea birds let me pass, but don’t give up their feeding grounds unless I get very close. It’s a tricky business, trying to guess the correct distance from each bird. The tall blue herons are in a large group today and may feel bolder than usual. The tiny snowy plovers have moved away from the surf. The curlews are so ever-present they hardly glance at my passing. I thread my steps back and forth, closer to the waves and then farther away, depending on what I guess is a polite distance from the wildlife. I guess wrong. The great blue herons are nervous – or maybe I made some unintentional noise. Away they fly.
Great Blue Heron
Curlew
Central California Coastal mist
Great Blue Heron
The great blues are here in force today. It’s springtime, and the bird families are teaching their young to fish. Watch this one as s/he catches, swallows and catches again. See the lump in the long, long neck?
Catch
Swallow
Catch
Swallow
The night herons are back after a winter’s absence. For the first time, I notice how long their necks are stretched out full-length. More often I see them in a group, hunched down, facing the cold wind together. I watch their antics for a while, and wonder if these are a different kind of heron than I think they are. Newcomers?
What kind of heron?
Stretch that neck
Along my neighborhood walk, there is a majestic icon. Morro Rock, the stunning volcanic plug that anchors the 3-mile long beach, sits ready for a photograph every day. Sometimes the sun shines on the irregular surfaces, sometimes mist plays around the rock. Either way, it’s a fitting touchstone, and I use this as my turn-around point.
Morro Rock
Also Morro Rock
End of the walk
I work my way back to my shoes, feel my thighs worry with the effort of walking through the dunes to the beach entrance. I think I’ll stop for a bit at the bench near the dunes, if the black bird will share it.
It’s springtime. Flowers have blossomed, the dunes-side bushes bloomed. But if you remember the colors of a month ago, you can see the fade already beginning. The surrounding hillsides have already changed from a full-mountain satin-ny green to a soft yellow. Wherever you are, I wish you peaceful neighborhood walks.