Guarding the Property

When we walk Boz in the neighborhood he causes a stir. All the local sentries come out to give him what fer and the hair on Boz's butt goes up. He's a lover, not a fighter.

I imagine if we could understand what dogs say it would be all single-syllable words and their sentences would be peppered with profanity. "You no come here! This my $%@# yard! You go! You go now! Go fast! You no come back!" They're just doing their job.

On the block behind us there's an area we call The Chihuahua Corridor. Long before he gets there Boz gets a mohawk going all the way down his back. Now Boz could kill a chihuahua with one chomp of his teeth. But with dogs, size really doesn't matter. It's all about confidence. When I stay home and John walks Boz, I know exactly when the two of them enter the Chihuahua Corridor.

This little guy may not look tough, and Boz's hair stays flat when we pass this house. But this guy's always got something to say: "This my $%@# yard! You go now! Wait! You come back here, you $(&# dog! I said come back here right now! You play?"

Free Time in the Bank

I don't think I'm giving away any trade secrets if I tell you I write my post the night before it goes up, then program Blogger to post it at 12:01 a.m. Usually I'm all organized and prepared. But sometimes the day has worn me out and I don't have a single pithy thing to say. Such is life, daily blog or no.

(What I mean is, I got nothin'.)

These are the times when it would be great to have several posts "in the bank," so to speak. You know, something pre-written and ready to go in case I'm out of ideas. I really need to get around to banking those. One of these days, when I get some free time.

Maybe this is a good time to say thanks to everyone who checks in, and to those who follow Pasadena Daily Photo.

(Yeah, yeah, that'll work. Try that.)

I love taking the photos, posting them and writing about them, and you all make it worth it. Thank you.

(Okay, well, it sort of worked. I should still bank some, though.)

Apparently, Johnson Rocks

Who is Johnson? How does he rate a field?

Oh, I looked, but I did not find. Much. Besides repeated mentions of Johnson Field ("an inactive spreading basin...used for passive recreational uses"), I found nothing but this interesting LA times article from 1992. The article discusses early plans for Hahamongna Watershed Park and a disagreement about putting soccer fields there. At the end there's a brief mention of Johnson field: "a small baseball field built by city employees for a municipal soccer league." I think he meant it was originally built as a soccer field but by the time of the article it was used more as a baseball field.

The article said all parties agreed the field should be eliminated. It's still there, after a fashion, although they finally stopped watering it this year. Makes sense. Drought + rarely used field - water = savings (or at least common sense).

So I found out that much. But I still don't know who Johnson is, or how he rates a field. Or a rock, for that matter.

Aztec Fire Crew 63

When I met John Belushi I said, "Nice to meet you." When I saw Brad Pitt in an empty diner, all I did was smile.

But last Wednesday, when J. and I met a bunch of firefighters fresh off the mountain, I said, "You guys are amazing! There's no way to thank you, but thank you!" Then I proceeded to take photo after photo, which they tolerated and even smiled for.

I think they liked the "you guys are amazing" part. I know they liked the "thank you" part, because when we arrived at the gates of the Cobb Estate we'd just missed them posing for photos in front of a hand-made, "Thank You Firefighters" sign hanging on the fence.

The top photo here is a little blurry but I like its haphazardness. Look how young, how tired and how tough they are. And how dirty. They've been through it.

Not to disparage Belushi or Pitt, but movie heroes are heroes of fiction. Firefighters are the real thing. They're not Batman or Spiderman or Transformers. These guys can't fly. When you contemplate the 250 square miles of mountainside that burned in the Station Fire, then think of how tiny even a brave firefighter is against voracious and towering flames, these mere humans are mighty small. But as a team their powers are great.

(Plus Brad Pitt's got nothin' on some, I must say.)
(Aw, cheer up.)
Very nice, thanks.

Smokey? Bear?

Where was I?

Ah, yes. So we met these men last Wednesday. They'd been putting out hotspots on steep terrain, just over halfway through a two-week deployment during which they were headquartered at Hansen Dam. That deployment ends today. Welcome home, guys!

Friday, when I saw pyrocumulus clouds above Altadena, I thought about "the guys." Now the firefighters had faces. I started nosing around about Aztec Fire Crew 63 online. Now I'm even more impressed than I was before. These young men have had to fight more than fires. You can read more about Aztec Fire Crews, or watch a video starring a different Aztec Crew.

I'm awed by all firefighters, and Aztec Fire Crew 63 is no exception. They're gentlemen, they were all exceedingly nice and we loved talking to them. As we left, my husband, who can lift a full-sized sofa by himself, said, "We sit at our desks and deal with ideas. These guys go into the mountains and deal with the forces of nature." I can't say it better. They are men of the elements.

Admittedly, there's plenty of hero worship going on around here. But I think the reason we're so impressed with these heroes is that they are, after all, humans.

Damn fine humans.

Zen Monday: #64

Zen Monday is the day you experience the photo and give us your thoughts rather than me telling you what the photo's about. I look for something worth thinking about or, failing that, at least something odd.

As I post each new Zen Monday photo, I'll add a label to last week's to identify it if necessary (if I know what it is).

Enchanted Evening

One evening last spring in Altadena, I took this photo looking through a storefront window. It was the first Altadena Arts Coalition Open House on May 15th (the second one was September 5th). I took so many other pictures that night I never got around to posting this one.

Lately we've been having lovely evenings for strolling and looking in storefront windows. I think I've finally found the right time for posting this.

I'm not frilly. I rarely wear bows or fluffy things. But this graceful dress, the strange light and the night invited my girlhood imagination to awaken and think of princesses.

Water Tight

In comments about yesterday's photo Margaret asked, "What is the flat surface we see?" Here's a closer view of it; it's a catch basin, part of the Las Flores Water Company's system. I don't know how it works, but I know it's part of a larger group. A snooty crowd, frankly. They're being a tad obvious about the fact that they don't want anybody inside their fence.

I took this picture from the back side of the basin or tank or tub or whatever it's called. That would be to the left side of it, in yesterday's photo. (Enlarge that shot and you can see the cyclone fence.) It may look a little rusty, but the rust is just to fool you. I've seen maintenance people around, taking care of it, patrolling the place and making sure nobody gets in. People take water seriously around here.

Fine, fine. Call it sour grapes but I don't want to go in there anyway. Stand next to the tank at the end of a hot day and it makes weird noises while it cools off. "Bloop. Boing. Doonk." Hell, I can hear that at home.

Revisiting an Old Flame

While firefighters continue to target hotspots in the Station Fire, I thought it might be interesting to revisit a small brush fire area I've photographed before to check in on the progress of regrowth. I took this photo on August 13th before the Station Fire began. Though this area (viewed across Las Flores Canyon from the Sam Merrill Trail) was unscathed in the recent fires, it remains closed to hikers.

This small area burned almost exactly two years ago in August of 2007. The fire was very quickly put out by our local firefighting heroes. Click on my March, 2008 post to see how the burn area looked this past February, then again a month later, after some rain.

In today's photo you can see much more growth. I don't know if the burnished brown scrub is dried from lack of water, or if that's the color of the healthy plant. Maybe one of you can tell us.

One of the hotspots the firefighters have been working on the last couple of days is almost directly north of this area. John and I met some of the guys as they came off the mountain Wednesday night. They were tired and dirty and gorgeous and sweet. I'm saving those pictures to post Tuesday, 9/22. That's when they said they'd be coming to the end of their deployment and have a chance to check the web.

I know we can never thank them enough, but if you get the chance, give it a try. They like it.

Wiggle Waggle Walk

Here's an action-packed sporting event involving three happy dogs who don't have a care in the world, thanks to owners who love and care for them. That's Sprocket on the left, Jerry in the middle and Boz on the right. John and I adopted Boz a little over six years ago and he's been enhancing our lives ever since. He doesn't have much of a tail to waggle, but he finds myriad other ways to show his appreciation.

Pasadena Humane Society & SPCA's annual Wiggle Waggle Walk is coming up on Sunday, September 27th at Brookside Park. There you can join with animal lovers from miles around and raise funds to help the more than 11,000 animals (of all types) that the PHS cares for every year. The walk is schedule for 9am to 2pm.

The Pasadena Humane Society is a broad organization helping all kinds of animals. They even have Wildlife Services. I suspect the Station Fire has created a stronger need for those services now than ever before.

The Wiggle Waggle Walk is a fun way to support all of PHS's services, including animal adoptions, education programs, wildlife services and more. I'm sure it'll be an action-packed event that will help more animals live their lives without a care in the world, thanks to the people at Pasadena Humane Society who care so deeply for them.

Fyre Guard

Fyre Guard doesn't have much of a web presence so I can't tell you any more about the business than what we see in the photo. The place was closed when I took the picture and there wasn't anyone to ask. Still, I love the look of the place. Click on the picture to enlarge it and contemplate all those fire extinguishers in need of fixing.

Acronymious

Who needs Hollywood? All that beating of one's head against Hollywood's brick wall is unnecessary when our very own KPAS has a green screen (aka Chroma key) studio. (If you don't know what it is and you'd rather not read the Wikipedia article, just click here for a quick visual to give you an idea of how green screen can be used.)

I met some nice people over at Hen's Teeth Square where the studios are located. Linda Centell, Pasadena's Assistant Public Information Officer, introduced me to everybody (and she knows everybody):
E. Stuart Johnson, Live Production Coordinator, recorded and videotaped me in the sound booth. (It's strange to watch myself doing voice-over on video.)
Later, Aaron Wheeler, the Marketing & Communications Manager, was helping set up in the green screen studio while I nosed around with my camera.
Don Repella, the Executive Director of Pasadena Community Access Corporation, talked about how green screen is used. Plus we got to talking about photography.
Community Outreach Coordinator Michele Maglionico Lembo demonstrated how to break the rules.

Now I know that KPAS and PCN are two different entities. Linda told me PCAC is public access and KPAS is government access, but is PCAC the same as PCN? And what does KLRN have to do with it? And why is it when I click on the "How Can You Create Your Own Show" link on the PCN website I get nowhere? What are they trying to tell me?

Ah, just banging my head against a bright green brick wall.

Zen Monday: #63

Zen Monday is the day you experience the photo and give us your thoughts rather than me telling you what the photo's about. I look for something worth thinking about or, failing that, at least something odd.

As I post each new Zen Monday photo, I'll add a label to last week's to identify it if necessary (if I know what it is).

Untitled 1969-2009

"This major work, Untitled 1969/2009, takes the form of skywriting that will say, with Nauman's classic mischievous humor, 'Leave the Land Alone.'"

I read that publicity phrase before yesterday's art installation but didn't understand it. How is "leave the land alone" funny or mischievous, let alone classy?

But I went to the La Loma Bridge to watch yesterday, because I wondered if there might be something more to this piece by artist Bruce Nauman. There was and there wasn't. By the time I left, the planes had written in the sky four times, "LEAVE THE LAND ALONE." The crowd on the bridge loved it, I think.

I wasn't disappointed but I might have been, had it not been for the Armory Center for the Arts. The project was initiated by Andrew Berardini, Adjunct Assistant Curator, and organized by Director of Gallery Programs Jay Belloli and Gallery Programs Manager Sinead Finnerty-Pyne. I assume it's thanks to these people that there happened to be, on the bridge, a very pleasant woman with printed information about the artwork.

This information explained that Nauman was directing his phrase at his contemporaries in the movement known as Land Art or Earth Art, questioning the artist's intervention with landscape.

Ah.

Ah!

Aha!

Cagey, doing that from the sky.

Looking Up

You recognize this, don't you?

I think what I'll do here is make a link for those who don't know what it is. Some folks are so familiar with it they don't need a link. Either they're looking at the picture saying, "Don't tell me, don't tell me!" or it's a complete no-brainer.

It's not a contest. It was just fun to take a picture of a cloudy sky today. We have clouds so rarely. The moisture comes in handy when we've still got fire in them thar hills after 17 days. The Station Fire is 81% contained at this writing. A week ago it felt like we'd never see that. Today, things are looking up.

Mourning

My friend took me out for coffee and a sandwich yesterday. We both feel like we're mourning for the landscape. It's going to take a while to learn to live with the changes wrought by the Station Fire. Bad things happen and sometimes they're so bad you can't get over them. But you learn to live with them.

We talked about other things, too--things we enjoy, projects we're working on, ideas we have--there are other things, good things. My friend cheered me up and I still feel good today.

I thought about posting something cute and happy, but I'll wait one more day. Today it's appropriate to mourn about those things we will not get over, but are still learning to live with.

Symmetrical

Here's my favorite loading dock in Pasadena.

Now there's a sentence you don't hear every day.

Somewhere There is Always Beauty

To those who participated in yesterday's rant, thanks for helping me get it off my chest. Everyone gets angry sometimes and there are healthy ways to express anger other than defacing property or burning things down.

The Station Fire symbolizes too much loss in too short a time.

Boz and I took a walk today. We didn't go to Hahamongna or the Cobb Estate or the Arroyo. We just went around the block. It took forever. I let Boz stop at every bush that beckoned him, every titillating telephone pole, every come-on curb. It was a chance for me to relax, look around and realize there is beauty. No matter what happens, somewhere there is always beauty.

The Litterin' Low Life

The Sam Merrill Trail gets a lot of weekend trash. So does the west end of the Gabrielino Trail, north of JPL. These spots also get a lot of graffiti, especially on the lower reaches. The preponderance of litter and graffiti on the low paths is because getting up high on the mountain requires effort and agility, and these are activities of the lazy.

Here's a sampling of what Boz and I found on a short walk Sunday from the west end of Altadena Drive to the ranger station, a 30 minute walk if you're not in a hurry. As you can see, our litterers are athletic (Gatorade), watch their weight (light beer), care about their skin (Neutrogena lotion) and occasionally indulge in candy. I notice one wrapper got out of my little arrangement. Perhaps litterers like to follow their Bliss.

The litterers might disagree with my low opinion of them. Obviously, they have a high opinion of themselves. But I'm right and they're wrong. They're lazy, slothful and stupid. How do I know this? Slothful: self-evident. Lazy: I found a good deal of this trash within about thirty feet of a garbage can. Stupid: See the cigar wrapper in that pile? And I didn't even pick up the cigarette butts. CIGARETTE BUTTS. WHAT ARE PEOPLE THINKING? (At first I thought, oh gee, maybe it was the coyotes, but wait, no, coyotes are too smart to smoke cigarettes in the middle of a forest full of dry tinder, which is more than I can say for some people.)

There's no sense complaining to you, you don't litter. You don't paint meaningless code words on rocks where only lizards can read them. Yet I want to vilify these trash-dropping mofos. Do they decorate their homes in early twenty-first century Garbage Dump? (Yes.) I'd like to scream and swear at the halfwits who think their spray-painted gangspeak--the secret language of morons--actually enhances a rock or a bridge or even so much as a pile of dung.

But I also call myself a writer and writers are supposed to be inventive with language. Supposedly we don't need to swear to express ourselves (though The Seven Words come in handy).

Let's see what we can do. Today I invite you to invent incendiary invective in the comments. Rail! Accuse! Vituperate! Tell the litterers how big a pile of offal you'd like to force them to sort, by hand, at gunpoint. Let the taggers in on your plans for their edification in a federal facility. Or perhaps you'd have them clean, under the hot sun, with a toothbrush, every inch of wall they've ever defaced. See how vicious you can be--without using The Seven Words. In fact, if you use one (or a variation of one) I'll delete your comment. But anything else goes. And I do mean anything.

And while you're at it: tell the Station Fire arsonist what painful punishment you have in mind for him (or her?). Heated words are welcome, my friends. Go ahead and get mad. But please: no swearing.

Zen Monday: #62

Zen Monday is the day you experience the photo and give us your thoughts rather than me telling you what the photo's about. I look for something provocative or, failing that, at least something odd.

As I post each new Zen Monday photo, I'll add a label to last week's to identify it if necessary (if I know what it is).

High Chaparral

It's funny how a girl from Illinois corn country becomes a woman of the San Gabriel chaparral.

I want to get up into the hills right now but for reasons of my own I can't go. I'm afraid the trails don't look like this anymore but that's okay. I still love them. I still want to be there. I still want to photograph them, and I will.

Until then, others are photographing the trails and the hills. Larry Wilson. Altadena Hiker. Keith Durflinger, for Pasadena Star News. Gem City Images. Mount Wilson Tower Cam. Rose Magazine. And oh, man, LA Daily News. Many more. I'll add today as I find them, or I encourage you to link to more in the comments.
The Truant Muse

Take time, if you will, to read Nancy Steele's post, How do we do nothing after the fire?
I think it'll help you begin to come to terms.