Praying for rain

California has always been known for its breathtaking sunsets, enhanced by the colorful tint of car exhaust and smog—and lately intensified even more brilliantly by smoke and ash from surrounding northern California fires. On our first evening here in Sacramento, the sunset was spectacular. The fires are not near enough to be a threat to us, however the air we are breathing and the ash trickling down and settling over everything around us is literally taking our breath away—a constant reminder of the tragedies of others not all that far away. The locals are worried about their lungs. Eric and I dream of crystal-blue Vermont air.

About a month before we left for California, Eric built a bench on the pond, out of trees he cut down from our woods and de-barked and sanded and stained. The structure is affixed to two trees on the back edge of the pond, and looks out across the water to the house. There is a vibe, a calm, a feng shui in the smooth wood lovingly fashioned by my husband’s hands. It feels like the safest, sweetest sanctuary on earth—a place to sit and read on a breezy afternoon, or a place to just sit, to look out at the pond, to just be. The pond is alive. Newts, pollywogs, the occasional aquatic bird, frogs croaking in the cattails. Insects zigzag patterns in the surface of the water like tiny figure skaters. Each time a tadpole pokes its nose through the surface of the water for a breath of air, perfect circles radiate out and out, intermingling until they disappear. Translucent blue dragonflies light on the vegetation like momentary ornaments around the pond’s edge. The first time we sat out there after the official ribbon cutting, one of our snappers surfaced from the murk to pay us her regards. She hovered for a long time in the water right below our feet, as if to welcome us and congratulate Eric on a job well done. Or maybe it was a warning. Maybe she just wanted to be sure we knew who rules the roost. Believe me, when it comes to Madame Snapper, we keep our place, ever grateful for her willingness to graciously share her domicile with us.

We’ll be home again in five weeks. Meanwhile, we wouldn’t want to wish a second of our lives away, so while we are here, we look for moments of calm, moments of beauty, and the wonders of California nature—like the little praying mantis that came to visit last evening as we sat on the porch awaiting the fiery sunset.

A man, a plan, a poodle…

…a bench!

(Thank you, Honey.)

Mama Snapper’s greeting

Pollywogs breathing

Little Ms. Mantis performs a Sacramento rain dance