Keeper

Things change over time.  Sometimes things disappear altogether.  Sometimes only the names change.  I painted at what used to be known as Oak Grove Park in the town that used to be known as La Canada.  I love the name Hahamongna Watershed Park; it is both authentic and descriptive.  I walked south toward the dam, and chatted up a birdwatcher who mentioned a nest of Cooper's hawks and the dam keeper.  There's a dam keeper?  What a great job title - better than a catcher in the rye to my thinking.

I walked back to the busier part of the park to paint the view of the mountains which were shrouded in a light haze which put painting them in reach of my capabilities.  I stood in some harsh sunlight, but not in the path of the disc golfers.  Remind me to tell you sometime about my sunscreen, because it is the absolute best.

The best thing about my visit to Hahamongna (which rhymes with conga, not bologna) was the presence of wildlife.  It was late in the morning and hot and noisy.  Nonetheless, I saw a terrific big rabbit, and followed it down the road a ways.   Every one of my footsteps stirred a lizard.  There were lots of  little tiny frogs or toads which I remember we used to find in that vicinity when I was about eight or nine, but back then frogs and toads were all over the place and I hardly ever see them anymore.  Not far from where I painted, almost the whole time I painted, a great blue heron stood in the sand.  I suspect it might have been eating little frogs or toads, but that seemed good too.  I'll be back soon, and  I'm hoping things don't change.