Karinaland River

  O edelstes Grün – most royal green verdancy... It rained hard; the hill is all mud. The various grasses are shooting up high, thickly clustered, turning the terraced slope into a sprawling meadow. With wet juicy green – the kind of green that feeds and seduces the eyes and soul. The whole backyard is “peppered” with clusters of Chasmanthe (African Corn Flag or Cobra Lily), their tall blade-shaped leaves and orange feathery flowers on long stalks. This plant has been in the garden before I arrived 32 years ago. Clusters of plantain plants, my favorite medicinal ally, are rising high. Stretches of ivy, ground ceanothus, creeping along. Two different camelia trees with deep red sumptuous flowers, a couple of wild rose bushes just starting to bloom in softest pink. Forget-me-nots throughout, yellow oxalis, red pineapple and purple wooly sage, blue-eyed grass, California poppies. The Hellebore under the oaks, the small camelia bush with its  huge  muted dark-rose blossoms. And many nastur

  Bird This shallow ceramic bowl – I keep it on the shoe rack near the entrance door. Sometimes a few odd items like screws, buttons or a stone will be gathering in it. More often I leave it empty so I can see the sun rise at the horizon. Or is the sun setting? Many years ago, I brought  diese Schale  back from Weimar (East Germany) where my mother had moved back in her old age. Every year, I hesitantly ask if I could take a favorite piece back to California. Mama has visited me; she knows where the bird is flying. Carefully I wrap the fragile ceramic and bring it home safely in my hand luggage. Over the years, many other pieces have emigrated with me to Berkeley. Also, Mama is quietly flattered I want her ceramic art. Of course, I do, I gush over her creations. In my twenties I would sell her small unusual enamel brooches, necklaces and earrings. Later in life, her inventiveness comes alive though many birds that can sing melodies – they are ceramic flutes. I play them occasionally in

  Words and Blossoms Sometimes a compliment arrives like the pink blossoms of spring. Suddenly, out of nowhere. The other day, after a long walk at the beach, I stop at the deli grocery store in Inverness to treat myself with their heavenly poppyseed bear claw before driving home. Entering, I notice the young man at the cash register, his energy shy, a slight hint of awkwardness in his movement and demeanor. Something is endearingly different about him. Is he an introverted teenager or already in his twenties? A silently rebellious youth, a musician? Someone who gets easily lost reading sci-fi novels, swallowed up in video games, or takes to sewing clothes, growing cactuses? For a few seconds, curiosity arising with silently flickering questions… what garden is behind the gate? He pulls the pastry from the glass display and before ringing me up, he raises his head and now looks me directly in the eye: “I have to say this: your outfit is fantastic!” He nods emphatically, his voice gentl

  Sleeping Beauty Midweek, walking on the sand close to the water down to the estuary. High tide, and very few people are here to enjoy a sunny blue skies day. All winter the beach has been changed and re- sculpted by violent storms and enormous King tides. The stretch from water line to the dunes is very diminished. Magnificent Ocean is a great teacher (and reminder) about constant change, like Breath. Feeling contentedly small and insignificant, I surrender to what is, just as when gazing at the starred night sky. Waves washing ashore, sand pipers busily scurrying up and down, dancing with the swelling and receding water, excitedly peeping in small flocks. A gentle symphony of sounds. The bigger curlews with their long-curved beaks standing still at times, on one leg, in suspended expectation. The soles of my feet eagerly sinking into the wet sand, with each transfer of weight another foot being massaged, rolling in, peeling off. Being washed in cold saltwater – dialoguing and commun

  Mimi Finally – with Spring approaching, in between long stretches of rainy, stormy weather – an outdoor photo session with my cat Mimi. She comes from the royal family of  Steiff , Germany. Time to introduce her to you.  Meine Steiff Katze  Mimi, an utterly curious creature, is my age. We know each other for 70 years, and are a good match. All along discussing important things like goodness, art, tears, justice, trees and meadows, transformation, and most of all beauty. She likes it here in America, it’s her home together with me for the past 42 years. She enjoys living on the hill for the past 33 years, in the cottage with view, sheltered by the big Live Oaks in  Karinaland . Under the Hellebore flowers Green eyes – like my Papa’s – with a slight glimmer of ancient sadness   She does have a mischievous streak, and her favorite is working on miracles every day. And of course, it is a miracle that she is with me. My Mama and Papa do not even have money for food when I am born at the e