Golden Mountain

So hubby and I took a short road trip this weekend to visit family.  

Over the years we have had quite a few road trips in California.  It never gets old.

As anyone of you knows, who has ever flown into San Francisco, California's great glory

is her natural beauty.  Haunting, effortless, colossally scaled beauty.

"Purple mountain's majesty" was written FOR California, BECAUSE of her.

Her hills are just as glorious.  By the age of ten I had already fallen in love with the hills around San Francisco at the moment when they were green.  I've always wanted to walk right over the hills and among the oaks of California - up and down the state, like so many had to before me.  My Dad always told us kids that we would all hike the Pacific Crest Trail together.  But other dreams took precedence.

The Chinese who built the railroads and much else in California called it the "Golden Mountain".

Not because of the precious metal to be found deep inside the earth.

But because of the gold that mantled the earth.  At this special time.

It looks like a Mexican Indian's mescaline dream.

Or an Indian Indian's detour on his way to Holi.

But no, it's not colored powder or psychedelic imaginings.  It's Mother Nature washing her paintbrush across a landscape, and dousing it with poppies, daisies, and in the hollows, purpley-blue lupins.

These pictures were taken at Gorman.  The only spot in the mountains called "the Grapevine" on Route 5 where the hills were in bloom last weekend.  

Mountains, take a bow.  Vous etes carrement en beaute!!!!!  

p.s. to Kenza:  good guess on the car, but if you look really close at the license plate, it will tell you the name of another 1970's TV detective


p.p.s. to everybody:  please do click to enlarge.  it will be so rewarding!