I had a bit of time before my flight, so I stopped by Rancho Santa Ana Botanical Garden in Claremont. My wife got her degree from Scripps College in Claremont, long before I met her. We used to live in La Crescenta, 30 or 40 minutes away. So this garden was like an old home place, though I had not been there in perhaps a decade and a half.
Heavy Winter rains led to a very green and lush garden. The garden seemed more developed than the last time I was there. The weather was a bit warm though not quite hot. I enjoyed the walk. I liked the California vegetation. I heard lots of Bewick's Wrens, saw a goodish few California Towhees, and saw my first Nuttall's Woodpecker. I caught a late afternoon plane to Dallas, changing planes at Denver. On the plane I read Mrs. Oliphaunt.
I landed at 11 p.m. When I drove home, heavy police presence guided traffic, apparently to avoid interfering with road work. The news was full of missiles in Syria.
Today I worked a solid day, taking a lunch break to walk in Breckinridge Park and to eat at Subway. After work, I came home and my wife and I walked Beatrice. A dozen or two families sat on blankets in the park. We could not sort out if the event was a school event, a religious gathering or a club of some sort.
We went to Spazo, the little Italian place near us. We saw outside in nearly-perfect weather. I had a great calzone with mozzarella and sausage--substantial but not too heavy. I told my wife of being so near her alma mater's campus. We concurred that I was wise not to stroll the campus, as Scripps scholars probably do not need a strange middle-aged man with binoculars and camera interrupting the academic reverie.
Now I am watching "Star Trek",the original series, and thinking about the abject luxury commonly called Saturday.