Oh, the Leaves

With October here in Utah have come shorter days and cooler evenings, two of nature’s signals to deciduous trees to start shutting down for winter.   Accordiing to ZME Science, the chlorophyll in their leaves, which gave the leaves their green color, begins to break down, revealing other pigments that were hidden during the summer.  Leaves also contain the pigments called carotenoids; xanthophylls are yellow (such as in corn) and carotenes are orange (like in carrots).  Sugars stored within the leaves break down, producing bright red anthocyanins (which also help protect the tree while the leaves are fading).   The tree begins do build a protective layer between the leaves and its branches that eventually cause the leaves to fall off.  Even from our front porch we can see the foliage on the Wasach Mountain changing colors.  Oh, the leaves, you, hear people saying, and Oh, Fall is my favorite season.  It’s not contest, cautions my favorite comedian, Jim Gaffigan, scolding us tongue-in-cheek for getting so much pleasure out of watching the leaves die (watch here).

Sudden Beauty

Don’t you love it when you are going through the motions of a mundane day, uninspired and mindless, when suddenly something soul stirring appears right in front of you and (to borrow a saying from my youth) blows your sensory doors in?  It could be a herd of antelope in our meadow or the setting sun illuminating the mountains.   It is what some of my friends call God showing off … other say Nature in all its glory.   Here on Oldereyes – Bud’s Blog, it doesn’t matter which you choose, as long as you take time to notice.  And let it move you.  Some years ago, I became an avid photographer when I found out that keeping a camera close by keeps me noticing the world around me.   Yes, I know, every phone has a camera, but a real camera is better no matter what Apple tries to tell you.

This week as I turned onto Lake Avenue headed toward Mountain View Parkway, the sky was filled with clouds tinted gold by the late afternoon sun.   The sky was a crisp blue and seemed to go on forever.  I reached for my camera and … gloom …I’d left it at home.  But yes, I had my phone.   I pulled to the side of the road and began snapping (well, I know, phone cameras don’t really snap but that’s how 78 year olds talk).  And here’s what I got.

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Nature in all its glory.   God showing off.  Amen.

Sweet Home Utah Part 2

When we decided to move from Orange County California to South Jordan Utah, we expected a culture change.  In 50 years, we’d become used to the mostly wonderful climate, the plethora of entertainment venues and eateries, the gorgeous beaches and regional parks.  We’d also adapted to the somewhat frenetic lifestyle, freeways so crowded we planned our life around rush hours and the sometimes overwhelming materialism of the wealthy.  What we got was an introduction to living in a beautiful new house during a pandemic, a pandemic during which my wife Muri dealt with breast cancer.  Without face-to-face contact with anyone but our daughter’s family and one couple next door.  We shopped in masks and ordered restaurant food from curbside pickup.   My wife’s cancer treatment was grueling but effective and we didn’t catch COVID (until two months ago).  We emerged from 2020 ready to learn what it was like to live unrestricted in Utah.  Here’s what we found.

Sweet Home Utah – Pt. 1

Yeah, I know … Lynard Skynard says its Alabama but I want to talk about Utah.   In 75 years on this planet, I never imagined I would live in Utah.   But here we are, living in the lovely community of Daybreak, Utah, and I guess it’s home.  If you been following along with my whining over the last several posts, you know that we moved here to be near our grandkids three years ago but their parents are taking them to a new life in Texas.  But Utah will likely remain our home … we don’t have another move in us.  So I thought I ought to say a few words about living in Utah. First off, let me say it is a beautiful state.  We can see the Wasatch Mountains from our front windows and whether they are topped with snow in the winter or illuminated by the setting sun in summer, they are almost enough to make me forget how much I love the oceans.  There are national parks and preserves all around us,  And Daybreak is a modern community with varied housing of many colors and frequent community events, like concerts in Downtown Daybreak.  We love our brand new house in the over 55 community of Springhouse Village and we own it outright because our California house had so much equity.

Small Things

Last night, I set out on my walk later than usual, needing about 4000 steps to reach the daily quota dictated by my Fitbit.   It was springtime warm and  to be honest, these old legs didn’t want to go.  Often when I need motivation to walk … and perhaps something upbeat to give me a brisk rhythm to walk to … I put on my Uplifting Tunes playlist, which is an assortment of favorites like Moondance, Rise, and Dance with Me.  Guaranteed to lift your spirits.   But my legs said, Put that crap on and we will go on strike.  So instead, I put on Linda Ronstadt’s Hasten Down the Wind, a beautiful mix of mostly slower songs better matched to my mood and my condition.   And how can you go wrong with Linda, on of the most incredible voices of my lifetime?

Brown Snow?

It snowed all night last night leaving a modest accumulation on our front walks.   When we bought our house here in Springhouse Village, I’d have sworn they told us that the sidewalks would be taken care by the association.   That appears to be a hit or miss proposition.  One rumor has it that if there are under two inches, it’s up to us seniors (Springhouse Village is for 55 and older folks and it looks to me like most of us are overqualified).   I didn’t measure but it looked like this morning’ fall was at least three … but by 11 am, no one had showed up to shovel, so I grabbed my trusty snow shovel and did it myself.    One shovel-full reveal a peculiar natural phenomenon – the snow was brownish but only on the surface.  Underneath it was the pristine white stuff I’ve come to love.  I called my wife, Muri, to come and look … she said that there was an article online about Brown Snow falling in Utah.

Kestrals

If you drive around our new neighborhood in Daybreak, Utah, you will notice numerous streets named for the robin-sized hawk known as the American Kestral. As a bird-lover, I was anxious to see one by it took a while since: from a distance, they look like any other medium sized bird; they are fairly shy (especially camera shy, more about that in a bit); and their population is in decline as the human population grows. I eventually became adept at spotting them, usually perched on the top of a lamp post or the uppermost branches of a small tree. Having spotted them, I naturally wanted to get a good photograph.

Rainy Ramble

It’s been a long time since I’ve done a Ramble here on Older Eyes – Buds Blog. In case you haven’t been around here long (who has these days), a Ramble is a post I write when I want to post but have nothing in particular to say. Or sometimes … like today …when there are serious topics I don’t feel like writing about right now. It is raining here in Socal, heavy rains predicted through tomorrow. The locaL news here treats every incoming rain storm like a major event but there is some cause this year … the possibility of mudslides in areas affected by the fires last summer, including Anaheim Hills where Mr. and Mrs. Eyes live. Mandatory evacuations have been issued in nearby Corona and voluntary ones a five minute walk away from our house. We are about a block from the fire line so we will probably not be evacuated. I am sitting in my car in the park. Yes, my phone is on so I can get any evacuation news.

Park Adventures

Even when I had Younger Eyes, I was never particularly adventuresome.   I might ride a particularly frightening roller coaster when pressed by my friends or try white water rafting in the Colorado river.   But there was no skydiving or bungie jumping, even though there was a part of me that wondered what it would be like.   In my forties, I ran 13 marathons and participated in a dozen triathlons … I guess hanging on for the last few miles of 26.2 … or swimming in high surf half a mile off the shore at seven in the morning with hundreds of other exercise-nuts qualifies as an adventure.   But now that I’m in my seventies, my adventures are more passive … and they usually take place at Yorba Regional Park where I spend an inordinate amount of my time.  While spotting a particularly fat ground squirrel or seeing a newly hatched baby bluebird might not bring the burst of adrenaline true adventurers crave, they are exactly the what this old curmudgeon craves.   Septuagenarians need endorphins, not adrenaline.

Maui at Seventy Three

Since my wife Muri and I moved to California in 1971, we have vacationed in Maui 7 times.  The first time we were here with our good friends, Don and Jackie, we spent half the time on Oahu and half the time at Napili Bay (perhaps the prettiest bay on Maui).   The second time, we brought our two children and spent time on both Maui and Kauai.   While Kauai is beautiful and less