The Drought January 25, 2014

California is dry, as dry as it has ever been since the state started keeping its weather records.  Typically by January, the Bay Area is swimming in rain and the Sierras are wrapped in snow.  Usually I can count off the months by the height of Nicasio Reservoir, and even by August I’m starting to worry about the water supply.  This year, there has been no replenishment, and the section along the Nicasio Valley Road is completely dry.  Even the old highway on the reservoir bed has been revealed, and Canadian geese have taken over where ducks and trout used to flourish.  Here at Almost Pi, there is no new grass, and I wonder how the horses and deer and other creatures can find anything worth eating.  No rain, and none forecasted.  Beautiful, unseasonable weather, but bone-dry land offering up kindling for the next wildfire.

Dusk at Point Reyes January 24, 2014

I drove out to Pi on this Friday night and arrived just past five as the sun was setting over the Inverness Ridge.  Three deer were munching on the scraggly grass, and the underbelly of the expansive cottony cloud cover lit up with pinks, corals, and oranges in every direction.  I unloaded my gear, flipped on the house lights, and headed downtown for a little walk and a few groceries. 

Almost every store, except the pharmacy and the market, had closed down for the night.  I walked around to witness a town I rarely see, consisting of only a few cars and a handful of people - scrubbing the Bovine Bakery, making a final transaction at the Wells Fargo bank, closing up the compost bin for the weekend.  The hiking boots and clippety-clack bicycle shoes of the typical tourist were nowhere to be seen or heard, replaced by the work boots of the local residents, who joined me at Palace Market to grab a few items for the evening.  I peeked into people’s homes as the lights turned on.  On the second story of a beautiful Victorian, a woman puts on lipstick; where is she headed tonight?  The Christmas decorations still linger on the large tree aside the bank. 

The town is so quiet, like the moment Annie and I first saw it nine years ago and decided to purchase this land.  I love it here.  

Christchurch, New Zealand December 31, 2013

You might be thinking that this post belongs in a different blog, but there is a connection, and it is one of the earth’s largest – the Pacific Plate.  Point Reyes lies at its eastern edge where it grinds against the American Plate, while Christchurch lies at the western edge, some 7000 miles away. Both regions, consequently, are prone to earthquakes. 

On our holiday visit to New Zealand, Annie and I spent one day in Christchurch to witness the revival of a city devastated by an earthquake in 2011.  Setting aside the marvel of the “cardboard cathedral”, whose ceiling is supported by massive cardboard dowels, and a “restart” shopping area, colorfully constructed out of shipping containers, the city brought to my mind photos of Dresden bombed during WWII.  Block after block of the “downtown” area were reduced to empty lots now inhabited only by wild-flowers and native plants.  What buildings that remained were empty, boarded up, and slated for destruction.  One large theater was completely stripped in half, exposing all the seats to view.  Several architecturally important facades, including that of the theater, were stabilized by stacks of shipping containers, filled with water, to prevent their tumbling forward.  Three years out from the earthquake, the city is still in shambles, with its residents frustrated by how long it is taking to rebuild their once beautiful city. 

It was a sobering thought for someone who lives on the San Andreas Fault.