Day's End

 

Day’s End

Noel Laflin

11-21-23

 

As we walked up the trail and rounded a bend, the sunset came into view. Irvine Park, its foothills, and all beyond were overshadowed by the white, red, grey, black and pink in the sky above.

 

It was a keeper of a moment.

 

When it was totally dark a short time later, multitudes of toads and crickets sounded off, and owls started to hoot.

 

We parted ways at the base of the trail – Kyle wanting to explore the creek bed, and me, wanting to head home and get some supper.

 

It was a dark hike to the car, but on a road I knew well.  I stopped at a favorite rock in a low retaining wall to capture a photo of all the fossils contained within. Holding the phone just inches away and hoping for the best on such a dark night, I clicked. The flash did it justice.

 

My phone dinged with Kyle telling me he could hear a screech owl. The kid was always a sucker for owls. Me too, and I must admit that I was a bit envious as I had not laid eyes on one for more than a year.

 

Then, as I finally approached my car I, too, heard an owl overhead in a sycamore tree. As I drew closer, a timer must have kicked in as all the park’s outdoor lighting suddenly flicked on, which startled that owl in the tree above. With a mighty screech, a great horned owl shot out of the sycamore, just feet away, and quickly sped off over the lagoon and into the night.

 

The owl-sighting drought was suddenly over.

That, too, was a keeper of a moment.

 

 

Young Explorers

 

Young Explorers

Noel Laflin

11-13-23

 

A group of preschoolers and their moms caught me searching the rock walls around the old boathouse this morning and asked if I had found anything interesting as they saw me bending down this way and that way - occasionally zooming in on something - in this case, searching for fossils hidden in stone.

 

I told the teacher what I was up to and this excited her greatly. She asked if I could show everyone an example of a fossil, so I was happy to do so. There was a good one close by and others that I pointed to across the lagoon in another wall.

 

I told her it was like a treasure hunt finding the rare rock that some thoughtful mason had cemented into place decades ago just so that someone (like us, I added) might someday come across and marvel at, just as we all were doing right now.

 

She asked the age of some of the examples and I told her millions of years old. She laughed and said they were obviously older than her. I told her I had her beat on that front, too.

 

I am hoping some future Indiana Jones was part of the young crowd today. With an enthusiastic teacher like this leading them across the park, it's definitely in the cards.

 

Eureka! Found Once More

 

Eureka! Found Once More

Noel Laflin

11-7-23

 

It took a couple of hours and three different scouting expeditions, but I finally located a cool looking rock that I first came across nearly three years ago.

 

It caught my attention the first time as those striking feather-like white markings stood out against the brownish red of the rock. I remember they kind of glistened in the sunlight as if to say, hey, look at me - I might be millions of years old but I still got it!

 

They are not fossils, but instead, really interesting looking crystallized mineral formations. The rock most likely tumbled down Santiago Creek from quite a number of miles away, based upon what I have subsequently learned as to where it might have originated in the Santa Ana Mountains.

 

Subsequent to its discovery, and to disguise its presence to others, afraid someone just might want to take it home with them (going to need a heavy duty backpack in order to do so), I turned the heavy rock upside down so that it would blend in with the other eight gazillion river rocks here in the area right off the creek bed. And in heavy flooding times, even where I stood, became part of the creek bed. The rock having landed here, God only knows when, is testament to that mighty force of nature.

 

Thus, turning it upside down so it looked like so many other rocks seemed like a good idea at the time, but would prove challenging in the long run, as already noted.

 

Fortunately, after those three failed attempts to locate it again, an off-chance photo hiding in Google photos, which showed some crucial landmarks, was most helpful in finally finding the elusive rock yesterday afternoon. Even then, it still took a while as trees tend to grow and the landscape alters, even in just three years – not to mention there were a lot of rocks that bore much in common. Let's just say there were few stones left unturned in the venture.

 

Finally, upon discovery at last - a jubilant eureka moment to be sure - I noted that the fire blackened rock was now split in half (maybe crunched when heavy trucks and tractors worked over this area a couple of years ago as burned out trees from the 2017 fire and subsequent thick overgrown brush were removed), but the section of stone that I wanted to see again was still pretty much intact. And because of the splitting, the cool looking interior is now visible, which wasn't the case before.

 

Once satisfied with a successful conclusion to this great adventure, I re-hid the rock and this time posted a feathered sentry to guard it.

 

So, the next time I get curious enough to want to view this little natural treasure again, all I need to do is find that bird and have him tell me where the hell, exactly, have I re-hid it?

Set in Stone

 

Set in Stone

Noel Laflin

11-4-23

 

I love walking through Irvine Park with friends and taking them off the beaten path to sights that I find kind of cool, like with David and Melanie here a couple of weeks ago.

 

To the unsuspecting eye (like mine, until one day something different caught my attention), they are simply seated on an old stone retaining wall put in place by WPA masons in 1938. How do we know the year? Well, a few feet from my friends, in the top of the wall, are names of some of the guys who apparently fashioned this old boundary marker (Bob, Mack, and George), and one fellow by the name of Leo White who was kind enough to engrave the year ('38) into drying cement, right below where he printed his John Henry (or LEO in his case). Seeing names left to dry in the mortar like this isn't usual throughout the miles of low retaining walls built within the park (although there's another fine dark rock containing great marine fossils alongside a different road not too far from here and at the end of that wall, standing in three inch high letters is the name Noah), but I figure these workman thought this particular location was far enough off the beaten path that no supervisor would take notice. Or, maybe it was their last day on the job - or, maybe Leo White was the supervisor and maybe it was his last day with the WPA - maybe Noah's too. Ah, there's countless speculation, so who knows.

 

But, I digress, as usual.

 

So, upon closer inspection of that lighter colored rock situated between Melanie and David is history caught in stone itself, once you get down low and look more closely. And then, Presto! Look at all those fossils!

I realize that this is just part of my nerdy nature, but I find that things like this are right up there (or down there, in this case) with colorful peacocks perched in tall trees and graceful hawks soaring high above the foothills.

 

That's my philosophical take on it, literally set in stone, in this instance, anyway.

 

So, thanks Leo, Bob, Mack, and George, or whoever was thoughtful enough to leave us this fantastic stone cemented in plain sight for all inquisitive enough to find. There's none other quite like it anywhere else in the park - none that I have found so far, but, hey, you never know what future walks through thick forgotten brush might uncover.

 

Nerdy minds just want to know, and as they say (or me, anyway), no stone shall go unturned.