Mother's Day Trip to the Poppy Reserve

For Mother's Day this year, Jeff took note of what I'd mentioned that I would like to do and planned an outing to the beautiful Poppy Reserve in Antelope Valley, California.

I'd asked to go early early, as I was wanting some sunrise photos and to catch the transformation as the poppies began opening to the sun.

This meant rising after just four hours of sleep.

While dashing around to get ready well before dawn, I kept hearing birds chirping outside and thought it was a bit early for birds, but didn't give it too much thought.

Until we'd dragged the boys out of bed, opened the front door and very nearly stepped on this:







Isn't he adorable?

It was chilly outside, and the parent birds we'd heard chirping earlier had apparently fled when the door opened, so the boys put a pile of weeds around the baby bird to keep it warm.

We surmised that the poor little guy must either have fallen from his nest under our roof tiles, or had simply not gotten the hang of learning to fly.

We told the boys that if he was still there when we got back home, they could find some worms for it's food and take care of him until he flew away.

After getting into the car, Jericho fell immediately back to sleep.

Judah, on the other hand, stayed awake the entire way there, peppering us with questions like, "Will da birdie still be dere? Why are we driving in da darkness? Is it night time? When is it gonna be day time?" Why did we have ta get out of bed in da dark time? Where are we goeen? Are we goeen on fa-cation? Are we goeen to da zoo?"

Finally, we arrived at the reserve.

The sun was just peeking up over the hills.





It was super-windy. And cold. And for some dumb reason, I'd not worn sensible shoes. We had to hike the paths with me wearing some slip on heels. Doh!

Nevertheless, the scenery was spectacular and worth every bit of discomfort.





The brochure the Poppy Reserve provided said that Spanish Explorers used to be able to see these rivers of golden-orange flowers from their ships, and nicknamed them La Sabanilla de San Pasqual (the Altar-cloth of St. Pascal), in reference to their shepherd saint who tended his flock far from church and village and knelt in fields of wildflowers to commune with God.

Modern day Pasadena, Altadena and Sierra Madre are all areas that at one time used to be filled with wild poppy fields, but today, the only large fields left are in the rural Antelope Valley region of Southern California.

We watched this little bird struggle in flight against the high winds. It finally stopped to rest here, and didn't seem at all afraid of us as we got close. I wondered if he was friends with the little bird-family we'd met earlier that morning.



The poppies were truly a sight to behold.







The brochure also mentioned several types of snakes known to live in the region.

I was very glad that we didn't see any of them. In all our 12 years of living and camping in the deserts of the Southwestern U.S. we've seen only one snake. Ever.

And I'm not complaining.





The boys were real troupers. It was 6:15 am in this particular photo.

Jericho still had that puffy-eyed, fresh out of bed look, but that cold wind and the brisk walk helped to get our blood pumping after the long drive.





I loved the backlighting in the following photo...the whitish curled over stalks are the pre-bloom stage of a weed called Fiddleneck.





While walking the pathways, Jeff took this photo of Judah tucking his little hand into mine. It was cold and he'd just told me, "I wuv you, mama." **heart melts into a puddle**



I always wonder if such moments will be the 'last' time my little guy does such things...he's growing up so fast.

For fun, we also took a shadow family portrait.



And later, just the boys and me...and the poppies.



Naturally no trip is complete without the boys pulling some goofy stunt or another.

My tripod became Judah's Tommy Gun.



Jericho found this rail to be great for sliding. Over and over and over again. It didn't hold the same appeal for Judah, who was stopped by every post because he was too little to slide down the top of the rail.



As we were leaving the Poppy Reserve, we'd driven a mile or two away and came to a bend in the road where we were surprised to see this



Here's the black sheep in this family.





Though minutes away there was a Poppy Reserve where you couldn't touch any of the flowers, here the sheep could graze to their hearts content.





Such a pastoral scene would be incomplete without the shepherd, watching over his flock with care.



His faithful sheepdog (at center) pricked up his ears and appeared ready to come racing after us when we pulled over on the side of the road to take these photos.



It was truly the icing on the cake to get to see such a sight after just viewing the poppies.

Back in the warmth of the car, the hilly roads finally lulled Judah to sleep.



We stopped off for breakfast as soon as we hit civilization, and then headed back home.

There was time for a long leisurely nap before having a little Mother's Day BBQ that evening for all the local moms in our family.

Our Nephew's son Baby B does "the Mowgli" over to Auntie K on the back porch. He can walk, just barely, but prefers this four-legged method above all.



Meanwhile, Cousin J and Judah ride around 'the outback' in Judah's jeep.

The one he got for Christmas which is already missing a headlight.

Need I explain that he was trick-riding when the accident occurred? Legs sprawled across the hood, hand on the gas pedal? MmmHmm. That's our Judah.

I'm already praying for that long-distant day when he begins to operate real vehicles. With horsepower. And torque. And peer pressure. Lord, have mercy!





I just love the little 'baby-bird' look of Baby B in this picture. He's such a cutie-pie, and seems to love our dog.

Oh, and speaking of baby birds...our little visitor from early that morning was nowhere to be found when we arrived back home.

The very next day, I saw a bird bearing a striking resemblance to him, fuzzy feathers and all, sneaking food out of our dog's dish.

Some moms are distinguished as the kool-aid moms of the neighborhood...but it appears I've am the dog-food mom to all the critters in our 'hood.