Before Memorial Day, in the farmers' market we So Cal denizens see tender greens, rich cherries, fresh onions and lush berries.
Then after the holiday, the first stone fruits and summer squashes pop up. Admittedly, we have wonderful produce every week here but we all look forward to the seasonal featured items.
This week's haul was more varied (and heavier than usual perhaps because I didn't have breakfast and I wanted to eat everything my eye lighted upon). I picked up early girl and kakoa tomatoes, eggplant, three-plus pounds of pickling cukes, Tulare cherries, tangelos,Mini Royal cherries, heirloom black beans that originated in Pennsylvania hundreds of years ago, two kinds of yellow peaches (at least from two different farmers), yellow nectarines, zucchini, and apriums.
It's going to take some focus to consume all this stuff.
In the coming weeks, I'm looking forward to watermelon, sweet corn, all the pilots, and little galea melons.
This is Horseshoe Canyon on a special day in May. Rains had washed it clean for us and compacted the sand under our boots. The riverbed looked like chocolate and glinted in the sun.
The cottonwoods wore their brilliant, springtime green. It smelled fresh - like clay and scrub.
This trail took us along the path of ancient ones who left their stories on the walls in panels high above us and right next to us. They are mystical and mundane and fantastic. They spark our imaginations but on a special day in May, it's easy for a visitor to believe that this is the place the ancients wanted to be.
I'm an angelino of a certain age. Here's what I do:
hike the local mountains,
travel when I can,
make photographs at home and out there,
cook for one often and for crowds sometimes,
read cookbooks and fiction,
listen to radio and podcasts,
I love storytelling or more precisely story-listening. I am [p]retired from the law biz, and thinking about how to make some dollars out of hiking and photography. Let me know if you have any good ideas, won't you?