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Nothing’ but blue skies from now on?

June 20, 2015

After weeks of lovely “May gray” and “June gloom,” our sunny So Cal mornings are back, which means barefoot excursions need to be executed before the mid-day sun boils the trail dust.

santiago creek trail in santiago oaks

When the daybreak shade tunnels through the oaks give way to brilliant almost-summer sun . . . it’s a fine time for a barefoot adventure in Santiago Oaks Regional Park.

Clear morning light does give the wildflowers an extra shine, though. This encelia seems to know yoga.

Clear morning light does give the wildflowers an extra shine, though. This encelia seems to know yoga.

Ten years ago, this area was scorched in the Windy Ridge fire; I remember my first time back on this trail--Peralta Hills, Santiago Oaks Regional Park--and being stunned by the beauty of wishbone plants in bloom against the charcoal moonscape. Same trail, same blooming-in-tough-times beauty . . . from a descendent of the fire flowers.

Ten years ago, this area was scorched in the Windy Ridge fire; I remember my first time back on this trail–Peralta Hills, Santiago Oaks Regional Park–and being stunned by the beauty of wishbone plants in bloom against the charcoal moonscape. Same trail, same blooming-in-tough-times beauty . . . from a descendent of the fire flowers.

Not all is sunshine and roses--I mean wildflowers--aglow. Throughout my run, I kept noticing plastic trash sparkling amongst the native plants. Can you find the straw sticking out of the drink cup deep in the lemonade berries?

Not all is sunshine and roses–I mean wildflowers–aglow. Throughout my run, I kept noticing plastic trash sparkling amongst the native plants. Contrary to what the knucklehead might have thought when he/she chucked this cup, plastic trash does not magically disintegrate when someone throws it in a lemonade berry bush. These plants may have medicinal properties, but they can’t do that kind of magic . . .

And how the light lit up these tufts of rabbit fluff . . . evidence of survival drama?

And how the light lit up these tufts of rabbit fluff . . . evidence of survival drama in the night?

Every twist and turn of the trail led to morning glory--here an intricate spider web.

Every twist and turn of the trail led to morning glory–here an intricate spider web.

This hawk lit up the morning with his piercing call, which I'd love to transcribe and translate, but my hawk language skills are still limited.

This hawk lit up the morning with his piercing call, which I’d love to transcribe and translate, but my hawk language skills are still limited.

Another hawk? The same one? This one is easy to identify as a red tail . . . soaring nonchalantly over and past the power lines.

Another hawk? The same one? This one is easy to identify as a red tail . . . soaring nonchalantly over and past the ridgetop power lines.

And what blog post would be complete without the obligatory foot selfie? Here I illustrate the comfort of drying horse manure . . . or trail pillows, as my feet like to call it. Happy (poo-filled?) Trails! Summer is a-comin' . . .

And what blog post would be complete without the obligatory foot selfie? Here I illustrate the comfort of drying horse manure . . . or trail pillows, as my feet like to call it. Happy (poo-filled?) Trails! Summer is a-comin’ . . .

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