#Sobrante Ridge

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Wild Turkey Chick by Becky Matsubara Via Flickr: Sobrante Ridge Regional Preserve, Richmond, Contra Costa County, California

#Avian #Bird #Birds #California #Dindon sauvage #EBRPD #East Bay Regional Parks #Guajolote Norteño #Meleagris gallopavo #Nature #Outdoors #Sobrante Ridge #Sobrante Ridge Regional Preserve #WITU #Wild Turkey #Wildlife #ebparksok #flickr

[fourletterbird]

#watercolor #sketch #plein air #field sketch #landscape #sobrante ridge #oak

[luckypl26]

Bobcat by Becky Matsubara Sobrante Ridge Regional Preserve, Richmond, Contra Costa County, California As I walked the Sobrante Ridge Trail this morning I looked up and saw this bobcat sitting in the grass and watching me. As long as I didn't move, it just stayed still and stared. Every time I took a few steps down the trail, it would act like it was thinking of leaving, but as soon as I stopped walking it would sit back down and continue to stare at me. Finally, it had enough of me and slowly walked away. Definitely a first for me. https://flic.kr/p/2hb8iFg

#IFTTT #Flickr

[mortallysuperpainter]

I wrote this while I was out hiking today and thought it was kind of funny. So I wanted to share. :-) I’ve edited it a few times by now... “‘Why Did Ohio Doctor Allegedly Kill 15 Patients’ read the headline I clicked on as I entered the eucalyptus grove, and no article came up. It was then that I heard the explosions—BOOM, Boom, boom, BOOM—over the ridge to the northwest in Berkeley, Richmond and El Cerrito as the fighter jets of a combined Russian-alien invasion took out communications, including cell towers, this side of the Bay. Then another, Boom, more north by northeast El Sobrante-Pinole way. The chatter shook the earth enough that the eucalyptus leaves that were dead, dried and corkscrewed on the tree shook off and made their characteristic clatter as they fell spiraling into various such things as cause that clattering effect, due to the weight of the leaves, that is their thickness--like you describe paper as having a certain weight--and speed. The sun shot a glare onto the bend in the trail ahead as a giant, garage-sized lizard stepped out of the foliage, fat forked tongue glinting and glistening in a shaft of light from the sun that also beamed off a highlight in his right eye. He saw me and attacked. Fortunately, I know of all of the off-trails, big and small, and blind spots in these parts and easily made it to the first side trail and then a second, hard to see, hooking back into a hiding spot that had been dug out nearly perfectly by natural causes beneath the first. The monster missed my maneuver, ran past. Unfortunately, there was now an open spot in the trail between me and the trail head--my door of escape--after a hedge with its companion assorted trees and bushes. And as I crossed this opening, the lizard took notice. It bounded toward me with astonishing speed, when fortunately the hedge stood up and gave it a big Whap! This gave me the time to gain my car and as I was leaving I noticed something that I’d always expected: a long green mound and ridge around and over which various trails ran stirred as the lizard upon which the grasses, trees and bushes of the mound and ridge grew shook off him as he shook off his sleep of centuries—this one was hundreds of yards long. He noticed the first—to him now less than a kitten would be to you and me—and dispatched him quickly, easily with a step, a shoulder fake, a lunge and a gulp. I took the trail road to Bear Creek Road, to stay off the main drag and out of the sight of the invading Russians, aliens and their pets. I made it back, but was unable, or unwilling to risk it: to stop for something that I truly desired: wine and crackers, and bananas for my bird. We do have most of a bottle of scotch, though, and some cheese, a few fat radishes and a couple of wilting scallions, as we hunker down now waiting for the end. Our window is open; the perspective doesn’t offer but a view of the courtyard, so I can’t see that it’s going to matter much, to help or to hinder us to see them, or them us. A pair of runners run by, silly, laughing, oblivious, and some students, off to classes, unaware of what the evening and the next day will bring.”

[weedithoriginal-blog]

#lemons bumper crop this year December 2017 (at Sobrante Ridge Regional Preserve)

#lemons