Monday, September 19, 2011

I Want Sun



Light, gold light is burning off the fog and delivering a sun-drenched Sunday. And just as I write this, a foghorn groans. That mournful cry that permeates the air and washes across the city until it hits the wall of our mountains.




I've been living with gray skies and fog for the better part of this summer, and today, I want sun. The weatherman promised sun, and today I'm going to demand it. Not just for me, but for all those kooky succulents in my garden. They're fine, good, so adaptable and acquiescent. They survive in most every kind of weather. But I want to see their edges turn purple and their yellows pop; and that bud that's emerging from inside what appears to be a split rock, I want to see it bloom.







Yes, I want to see the succulents bake and watch their mysteries unfold. I also want sun for the lizards. I want bright light to illuminate the rock wall so that Huey, who's shedding his skin, can sprawl across his favorite chunk of sandstone and catch the rays.




(See you next time on October 20th)

22 comments:

  1. Hi Aneet-

    Beautiful descriptions of a foggy day. Normally I'm a fan of the fog this time of year, but I sure wasn't this morning, when my recently washed car was covered in condensation.

    I particularly like the photo of the fog below the trees. It's as if it was wrapping itself around the greenery. I think I've mentioned my favorite Starbucks which is at the southwest corner of the Palos Verdes peninsula and on sunny days offers beautiful views, right? Many days this summer when the leeward side of the peninsula was baking in the heat, this little corner was fortunate enough to have a line layer of fog gently hugging the immediate coastline and keeping it cool and sheltered from the oppressive heat. That and an iced coffee will cool me down nicely. =)

    Beautiful photos as usual, and I look forward to your post next month.

    Warm Regards as Always,

    Joseph

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  2. Hello Joseph,

    Ah, that Starbucks. So glad it served you well this summer. I too have been grateful this year for the fog. But finally, enough is enough.

    Enjoyed your message, Joseph. Thanks for your kind and expressive words.

    Sincerely, ~ Aneet

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  3. Wow, these photos are truly something to behold! Like Joseph Hecht, I believe that the one with the fog in the valley is the best of your photos that I've ever seen. I particularly like the way the range in the extreme background is captured in sort of an enticing faded blue that's just barely distinguishable from the distant sky. It's as though I were peering into nowhere when the foreground is so muted and well composed. Congratulations on a true work of art, there... I also appreciate how the nearest bole of that impressive tree is so dark as to deceive the eye as to its texture. The feeling it evokes in me is one of being suspended in a timeless space. So cool!

    BTW, I'm not sure whether Joseph Hecht realises this but his last name is German for pike -- like the fish...

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  4. Dave,

    Lovely to hear from you. I'm delighted that you liked the photographs, particularly, with your in depth knowledge of photography. I enjoyed reading your impressions of the landscape photo. So glad you found it evocative. The tree you mention is a Chilean pepper tree with a highly textured trunk.

    Thanks so much for your thoughtful and generous words Dave.

    Sincerely, ~ Anitra

    And,oh, perhaps Joseph will see this message and learn something new about his name.

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  5. Good Morning Anitra,

    I sure hope this morning you're waking up to sunny skies and that fog is burning off!

    Yes, these photos are quite revealing as to how thick that fog can be. That picture at the top is my favorite. The photo at the bottom shows that toad which looks too much like my boss. (Then again I shouldn't insult the toad)

    Best to you............Jonathan

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  6. Jonathan,

    Hello, hello. No, today, it's fog once again. Though your message brought brightness. I'm glad you like the photo at the top of the page. Your comment about your boss was really funny; I laughed heartily when I read it. You have a terrific sense of humor.

    Hope this note finds you feeling well Jonathan.


    My Fond Regards, ~ Anitra

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  7. And Dave,

    My mistake, it's not a pepper tree, but a variety of eucalyptus :)

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  8. Aneet and Dave-

    Yes, being part German, I am aware of what my last name means. =)

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  9. And so, Joseph,

    This info was not new to you. Names and words often have several meanings. I think the name Hecht is strong and memorable and has a very nice ring to it. There is a legendary screenwriter with your same last name.

    My regards, ~ Aneet

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  10. That second photo looks like something out of The Hobbit, or perhaps Wind in the Willows; lovely atmosphere!

    And I also dig the description of the foghorn bouncing off the mountains; very similar to my favorite nocturnal symphony of a distant train whistle, echoing across the darkened countryside.....

    Beautifully evocative words and pictures, Luv!! Looking forward to the next installment.

    Be well!
    {{{ANEET!!!}}}

    Chris

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  11. Hey Chris,

    Nice to get your message. I'm surprised that several readers have responded as strongly as they have to the landscape photo. It's a view I see quite often (in various weather conditions) and didn't expect it to have as much impact as it has had.

    Am so glad that the foghorn resonated with you. It's a good feeling to be heard isn't it? I enjoyed your distant train whistle as well.

    Sending good wishes your way, Chris, ~ Aneet

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  12. Aneet-

    Yes, I'm often asked if I'm related to Ben Hecht, and sadly I'm not. It's a rather uncommon last name here on the west coast, but I've met people from the east coast who know many people with that last name. My grandfather was born in New Jersey, and his dad's name is on record at Ellis Island, but I digress. Thank you though for the compliment.

    A thought ocurred to me about the foghorn. Sometimes at night, I can hear the foghorns from Los Angeles Harbor, and it gives me an odd feeling of comfort, as if you know someone is out there and the night is not completely silent. Some food for thought. =)

    Regards,

    Joseph

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  13. Joseph,

    Thank you for your comment. It's nice to know more of your background. I also wanted to say that your first name sounds just right with your last name. The words compliment each other and go together well.

    I enjoyed your impressions of the foghorn. Foghorns have that kind of dreamy sound that plays just below the level of consciousness. The thought that they could be a comfort -- a presence that makes one feel less alone, is a new thought for me and seems a fitting one for a poem.

    Once again, I'm glad you've shared your thoughts with us.

    My regards, ~ Aneet

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  14. A foghorn always sounds to me like the mournful cry of the myriad souls who lost their life on those rocks over the years; souls given voice to cry out a warning to the mariners who come after them. I know it's weird but the sound of the foghorn is, to me, at once the sound of life and death. Many have died so we have erected a warning; an attempt to beat back the grim hand of death from those who venture past those rocks.

    I have been caught on the water in the fog: the fog so close around you that you can't tell where sea stops and sky begins. The fog so thick that the horn echoes at once from all around. You feel the shiver up your spine -- the shiver of warning -- the shiver of your death stalking you. No one who can help you except for the cry of those lost souls who went before. The sound ebbs and floods, like breathing -- the breath of death from every quarter as though you were trapped in his lungs. You can feel it on your skin and in your soul. You realise that the shiver up and down your spine is in time with the breathing of death. He has you in his clutches, now... very few escape...

    I know it's sort of silly for me to be waxing so emotional but I still remember each of those days trapped between life and death even though some of them were many years ago. I count myself lucky to have escaped death as often as I have. But no one escapes forever. I am an old man -- soon death will tap me. But it's different, now. We've become friends after all these years, like worthy opponents, like adversaries on the field of battle.

    Warmest regards.

    Dave

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  15. Dear Dave,

    You wrote such powerful and profound words. What you've written reminds me of an excerpt from a beautifully written novel, perhaps something by Annie Proulx. Thank you so much for being open enough to share your wonderful talent with us.

    I've been assuming that you're the same Dave who gave me sage advice on photography in the "Open Air Market" post. I wanted to mention that I don't usually publish comments this long. And, of course, I monitor what is published here. Some comments I don't quite understand, and therefore, I'm not comfortable publishing them. I also try to avoid publishing comments that seem to me to drift too far away from the tone of this blog. And though, there is much variety in these 80 some-odd posts, from horror flicks to game shows to the serenity of nature, I like to focus on life affirming subjects. One thing I so admire about your comment, is the fact that death is part of life and that you have shared something so personal, and yet, it is also universal. There is much poetry in your words, Dave. They are impressive.

    My plan is to leave this comment up for at least two weeks.

    Sending you my fond regards, ~ Anitra

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  16. Yes, I am one and the same although, admittedly, more introspective than has otherwise been my wont. I apologise for having, albeit inadvertently, violated the spirit of your blog. Thank you for your magnanimity and good grace in being accepting of my post, nonetheless.

    Cheers!

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  17. Hi Dave,

    I was excepting of your comment because it was so extraordinary. Thank you for your message. It is happily received and much appreciated.

    My good wishes to you Dave. Sincerely, ~ Aneet

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  18. And oh, Dave,

    Another thing, I enjoy hearing from you and am honored that you read my blog. Thank you so much for your honesty. I surely hope that you will feel free to comment whenever the spirit moves you.

    My regards once again, ~ Aneet

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  19. Hi Aneet,

    That top picture in the side bar is one of the most beautiful shots! About what time was it taken?

    Jonathan

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  20. Hello Jonathan,

    Good day, good day. I'm so glad you noticed and liked the new photo in the sidebar. I just posted it last night. I shot it three nights ago. The time was between seven and seven-thirty. We're still on Daylight Savings Time. We've had a change in the weather dynamic with drier air coming in from the desert. This has created new color in our sunsets, color we've not seen during our summer of fog.

    Lovely to hear from you Jonathan. Sending wishes for your health and happiness, ~ Aneet

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  21. Thank You Robert,

    It's nice to hear from you.

    Sincerely, ~ Anitra

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