flowers | Monica's Tangled Web

Bella, of One Sister’s Rant, earlier this month did a photographic post about her neighborhood. Which inspired me, so, on a recent weekend morning, I took my camera out on a walk through my neck of the woods. I figured one of the best places to go would be by the coast, just a couple of miles away.

Of course, June around these parts is known for its “June Gloom,” on account that nearly every morning you awaken to gray skies. Though, by noon, the sun is out in all its glory, and the gloom is never bad enough to keep people indoors. This day was no exception.

Hope you enjoy!

This time of year, the Jacaranda trees are in full bloom. Its purple flowers are breathtaking.

What I love about the trees in this seaside park, is how the unrelenting wind off the ocean, has caused them to bend dramatically toward the east, barely keeping their heads up, yet finding the will to do what it takes to survive.

These gnarly, twisted trees, long ago bowed to the wind, and now make for climbing fun.

The view from the park.

These three seem to be deciding whether or not to hit the surf.

Seems like I’m not the only one seeking a photo opportunity.

A nice spot to enjoy the view and watch the surfers.

This shaggy dog shows no interest in the ocean.

This train, heading south along the California coast, offers great ocean vistas.

Even in the gloomy morning, the view is exceptional. It’s no wonder people want to live here.

I just love how so many bring their dogs to the beach. A couple of miles north of here is Dog Beach, a place where anyone can bring their dog to frolic and splash freely in the water–leash free!

This seaside community has a bit of a Tudor feel to it.

And one more. We love the sea in these parts!

So, tell me, what makes your neighborhood special?

Spring Break in this household just kicked the bucket. Kaput. Gone in a flash, just like that.

Entrance to the Huntington Library, Art Collection & Botanical Gardens--an amazing place to visit.

And, as I drove my daughter to the airport, in the wee hours of Sunday morning, I found myself wanting to belt out my own rendition of “Sunrise, Sunset.” Because, if you ask me, the passage of time is captured best in this song’s lyrics:

“Is this the little girl I carried…I don’t remember growing older, when did they?”

“Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze.”

“Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years, one season following another.”

Well, friends, it was a whirlwind week. Not enough time is my usual mantra, and I mean it now, more than ever. Sunrise, sunset.

And, of all the things we did together this week—two movies, tea with friends at the Huntington Library in San Marino, shopping, lunching at our favorite cafe, etc.—the most glorious of our experiences is captured in the photographs below.

We floated, we too, mother and daughter, in fields of spectacular color. For the ranunculus are in bloom! Row upon row of reds, yellows, whites, pinks and oranges–as far as the eye can see. A world of enchantment, like a bouquet of Technicolor extravaganza that has been sprinkled with golden fairy dust. Way too beautiful for mere words. And fleeting, too, for in four weeks this will all be gone. Sunrise, sunset.

There was me, excitedly running ahead with my camera, taking over 100 shots from every possible angle. And there was my girl, my chica who recently turned 21, following close behind with all the patience in the world. She has it all and I have none, my New York spirit still strong, while hers is firmly planted in laid-back California. Different, yet the same.