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Showing posts from January, 2008

The Mountains Are Out To Get Us

It's easy for us to think that the mountains are out to get us this winter, the naive newcomers who blithely plopped down out here in the Santa Cruz mountains in the fall, when there was sun, to admire the view. Racoons ate the chickens on Christmas--they dug under the pen and took four to eat, killing the rest and leaving them behind in grisly, feathered angles of repose. And now my daughter, who found them, is inseparable from her stuffed chicken toy we'd (unaware of the carnage) left outside her door just that morning. She's drawn up plans for a new chicken house now. The future chickens will have metal walls, and an elevator up to an observation tower where they can keep an eye out.

This was followed rapidly by a succession of great, voluminous storms coming on off of the Pacific. The crest here on the ridge of the mountains, breaking against us before raining down into the valley. Great whoppers of storms, these were, with fascinatingly high winds that our landlo…