nature

Cali Catch-Up

~ Kelly Wolf ~ 6 Comments

Photo-sharing is the one thing I’ve missed since jettisoning myself out of social media about a year ago. To address that loss, I’ve decided to use this space to share some pictures of what I’ve been up to since returning to California in late-November. Of course, this strategy only addresses half the issue. I’m still missing out on other people’s photos, but I don’t know what to do about that besides ask my loved ones to text me everything they post online…which they probably/definitely won’t do.

I’ll start with the big trees:

The dogs say, “What tree? Another dog is approaching!”

I really missed California’s incredible array of trees and pined (ha ha) for them ever since we left in ’09.

Next, the coast:

Daisy’s first Pacific Ocean experience. She approved.

Titus at Point Reyes. He was introduced to mussels and barnacles and thought they were very scary. But the rest of the beach was great.

This is how Titus lets us know we’ve walked far enough.

I’ve done a lot of wandering around outdoors. I’m unemployed and surrounded by beautiful, natural spaces, so what else can I do? 🙂 (Those of you who know me even a tiny bit won’t be surprised by the mushroom portraiture.)

On the Vista Loop at Sugarloaf Ridge. I’d had my first visit to this park the day before and it was a total failure – I ended up trudging uphill on the road in the rain for over a mile – so I had JR go back with me the next day to have a redemptive experience. And we sure did!

Joyous JR on a ridge trail

Raindrops on a spiderweb

This branch/root looks like it’s running.

San Francisco and the bay from the summit of San Bruno Mountain

That hill is made of compressed volcanic ash from millions of years ago!

We got to visit Santa Cruz and reunite with our sea lion pals:

And I got to snap a shot of this place that was right by my first apartment in Santa Cruz. I call it the Watch That First Step House:

Here are some flowers:

😆

Here’s what our Christmas tree looked like:

And here’s a lit-up palm in Sonoma’s downtown plaza:

Here I am with my dear friend Caro, whose birthday we got to celebrate just a week after we arrived:

We’ve been friends for over 20 years ~ I’m so excited we’re back in the same state!

And finally, here’s Mom with Titus:

Both dogs are in love with their Grammy and can’t believe how lucky they are to have her move with them to California. 🥰

Yay, I got to share pictures!! I’m so happy. I really hope you liked them…and that you start texting me yours. 😁

Slug Porn

~ Kelly Wolf ~ 1 Comment

[Viewer warning: This post contains sexually explicit images of slugs.]

During a backyard fire with our nephew last summer, I noticed something on the unoccupied chair beside me, then shone my phone’s flashlight on this scene:

I’d seen in a nature documentary that slugs are hermaphrodites who entangle themselves when mating and both end up pregnant afterwards, and I assumed this was the start of such an act. My husband, nephew, and I expressed gratitude that we’d chosen the three slug-free chairs around the fire, as sitting on the slugs would’ve been super gross, especially given their size – about the length and width of an index finger.

We chatted and fed the fire for several minutes before I remembered the love slugs, shone the light on them again, and found them fully entwined, hanging from a string of slime:

I’ve mentioned before that if I think something’s gross, my sister will think it’s cool, so when I encounter gross things out in the world, I take pictures and send them to her. True to form, when I sent the above shot to my sister, she wrote back: Coooooooooollll!!! The rest of us were not convinced, however, our reactions trending more in the “ew” zone.

A few minutes later, I turned the light on the pair once again, and this time, I almost barfed.

I mean, what the hell is happening here?? I sent the image to my sister along with: They’re creating a slime creature! A few seconds later, she wrote back: That is the freaking coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time! I’m sure you totally agree!

At this point, my nephew was laughing really hard, because every time I took a flash photo of the amorous pair, I’d blurt out, “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” I just felt bad. Here are these slugs peacefully trying to fulfill their life goal of procreation, and some big lout keeps shining the brightest light in the world on them.

From there, I stopped taking pictures, but what happened next was this: the two climbed back up the string of slime and separated, then one of them ATE THE STRING OF SLIME while the other one left the scene. I have no idea what happened to the slime creature they’d created. It probably broke off and is now running for Congress.

I think it’s very telling that I haven’t done any subsequent research to find out what was actually going on with those slugs. I am curious, but I know that going down that rabbit hole would involve lots more images of slime strands and slime creatures and I just CAN’T. Blech. Perhaps I’ll ask my sister to conduct the research, then give me the Cliffs Notes version…sans visual aids, please and thank you. 😁

Balancing Act

~ Kelly Wolf ~ 8 Comments

I haven’t written in a long time. For me, the last several months have been defined by a general numbness, as my system tries, with little success, to process gargantuan levels of rage, disappointment, and despair. While emotional and mental chaos open some people’s creative doors, that’s not the case for me. My imagination has been pushed aside. I don’t even want to work on editing, worried I’ll make my stories worse instead of better.

Still, on the eternal quest to hold grief in one hand and gratitude in the other, I continue to take pictures. They serve as ever-present reminders that there is beauty in this world.

I’ve photographed trees and forests:

Various forms of water:

Dragons:

Flowers:

And other fun things, like winter-wrapped Tiny Titus:

A rollerskating banana:

Deer dozing in a cemetery:

And a silly reflection in a teapot:

Until the numbness fades and my full-scale existence comes back online, I guess I’ll use this space for photos. And in the day to day, I’ll do my best to keep breathing, drink plenty of water, and, as much as possible, stay in the light.

A Dream Come True

~ Kelly Wolf ~ 8 Comments

When I was about 5, I had a terrible dream. Our kitchen phone – a prototypical ’80s cream-colored landline with a loooong, dangling cord – began to ring. I picked it up, said, “Hello?” and a torrent of insects poured out of the ear piece. The stream was so thick and fast-moving, it pushed me out of the kitchen, through the front door, and down the driveway, growing ever larger as it surged ahead. The whole world became black – just an all-encompassing flood of thickly-packed bugs. I woke up shaking all over.

Today, in Western North Carolina, we’re preparing for the emergence of a “double brood” of cicadas. Apparently, sometime over the next month or so, trillions of cicadas will burst from the ground to blanket the entire outside world and fill the air with a constant, deafening roar.

Of all the dreams I’ve ever had that I did not want to come true, “bug flood” is most definitely in the top 5. And yet, here it is, preparing to will itself into existence.

I’ve heard harrowing tales of the last cicada swarm in Western NC. Folks had to use snow shovels to dig paths to their front doors. Home window screens and car windshields were so covered in bugs, people’s views were completely obscured. My friend was riding her motorcycle and thought she’d been shot in the chest, then again in the head, but she’d actually splattered two unsuspecting cicadas. The noise was so loud and incessant, people felt like they were losing their minds. And that was a single brood, mind you – half the size of what’s about to befall us. The possibilities are truly terrifying. How are my dogs gonna deal with this? Will they come in from the backyard covered in cicadas? Or with mouthfuls of cicadas?

Maybe, if it gets too bad, I’ll just act like my neighbors down in South Carolina and call the police. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report a childhood nightmare come to life. Anything y’all can do about that?”

I saw one cicada while camping last summer, and that was one too many. I did snap a photo of it, however, to send to my sister. Over the years, I’ve learned that when I see something and say, “Ew,” my sister would see the same thing and say, “Cool!” So I take pictures of gross things and send them to her.

She was pretty stoked on this one.

Now that I think of it, I may have a solution here. I just need to move my sister back from Spain so she can go through this ordeal with me.

“Look: that car’s completely covered in cicadas! Cool!”

“There are three inches of cicada carcasses on the ground! Cool!”

“The restaurants are serving fried cicadas! Cool!”

“The dogs are pooping cicada parts! Cool!”

Maybe, with her continual reframes, I could survive the bug flood. And maybe, after breathing life into a dream that was so horrifying, I vividly remember it over 40 years later, the universe will see fit to do a little balancing act and make one of my good dreams come true.

I do love a flying dream, universe. Just sayin’.

Look Up

~ Kelly Wolf ~ 4 Comments

Bert Hubley was one of the best teachers I ever had. Tasked to instill a pre-chemistry curriculum into the minds of middle schoolers, he threw in ornithology and astronomy, as well, just to keep things interesting. His sky-high expectations were both intimidating and exhilarating, and even those daunted by his style couldn’t help but respect him.

Mr. Hubley cautioned his pupils not to be the sort of people who wander around staring at their feet, especially at night when there’s a starry sky to observe. To mark the end of each period, he’d ask his signature question: “What’s the word, class?” As instructed, we’d respond, “Look up.” (Granted, that’s two words, but whatever. He didn’t teach English, or math, and the message was sound: Look up, people. Pay attention.)

I am often reminded of Mr. Hubley’s tutelage about halfway through my daily walk, as I plod along ruminating on my workday, conducting imaginary, mental arguments with random people, or generally fretting about inconsequential crap. At some point during this unobserved trudge through the neighborhood, a kindly voice will break through the haze to ask: “What’s the word, class?”

And I remember his lesson, and I look up.

It can be a real gift, breaking out of one’s head.

Thank you, Mr. Hubley, and to all the great teachers out there. Your lessons have the power to make a lifelong difference.