Weekly: This month aka Emotional Whiplash

This month… I won’t lie, the emotional whiplash has been a lot. I can spare you the politics (not good, not good) but I, of course, cannot ignore what has happened to my beautiful LA County. As I mentioned before, the way that almost all of LA came together, overrunning donation centers with supplies, donating to fundraisers, opening their homes at a moment’s notice–that is what I am going hold onto from these last few weeks. The rest, well…I’m protecting my peace. I’m focusing on community, on what I can do in times like these. I can hardly fathom times like these…

The winds did pack up again since the Palisades and Eaton fires. All was safe in my little LA enclave, but I was crossing fingers and toes as the Santa Anas raged back up again. In 2022, there came a violent overnight windstorm that felled several large trees in my neighborhood, including two giant pines into my neighbors’ yard. Some post-storm photos below.

I wasn’t about to go anywhere near the fires, nor the destroyed homes. Props to the photographers who did rush literally into the fire to document what happened. That was not me. There is also plenty of concern about the air quality here, particularly with toxic compounds lingering in the air. I’m taking as many reasonable precautions as I can.

After what felt like the absolute longest week, I am finally crawling back to the myriad of small projects I have going as the year charges on. Work slows down quite a bit for me now, which is good for a sense of balance for this freelancer. That is, until about the end of February where I begin to question why I got myself into this career. Then, the moment March begins, the client calls being to come in and my mood vastly improves.

My work, along with a crew of very talented photographers, was featured on BizBash here. This was for the annual Candlelight Concert at Segerstrom Center for the Arts, which raised over $19 million for arts programming and education.

Currently reading:

100 Years of Solitude by the Gabriel Garcia Marquez – it’s been on my TBR shelf for years, and with the Netflix series out I figured now was as good a time as any to read the renowned classic. My copy is a Harper Perennial Edition with deckle edges. In the age of booktok and sprayed edges (aka “spredges”) this is more the aesthetics of reading I enjoy. There is not much more I can add to the discourse around this book. It is not an easy read, and thankfully this edition includes a family tree of all the main characters, but it is captivating. I’m glad to have read it before watching the series.

The Paris Review – longtime reader, ever behind at least one issue.

Miscellany:

In contrast to last year’s wet and soggy SoCal winter, this one has so far been dry and disconcertingly warm. Despite that, I plan my spring gardening right around now because it does sneak up. I receive catalogs from Baker Creek (the popular kid), John Scheepers (old and reliable), and Strictly Medicinal (a delightful and quirky catalog to peruse), and I also browse the many offerings at Renee’s Garden.

I’ve had the same 2-quart slow cooker (Crock-Pot brand) for over 10 years now. It had been sitting in my cabinets unused until sometime last fall when I pulled it out and started using it again. I’m happy to say, it is possibly one of the best kitchen gadgets for a two-person household like mine. I’ve stuck to mostly chilis, stews, and soups, as well as a pot of mulled cider for the holidays. I’ve recently purchased this cookbook, which has a number of recipes ideas that work for just me or two people. I’ll have to put some of my successful slow-cooks here as I go.

This Fire Season

I must have been sensing something because not long after my last post the Bridge Fire began burning in the hills directly near my home. I’m no stranger to fire season, though I don’t remember them being this bad when I was a kid. I’ve watched the hillsides near me burn, then renew, then burn again a few times over the years. I was even evacuated once in the middle of the night with three very confused dogs. I was genuinely optimistic about this fire as it started since it was in relative close proximity to the two fire stations nearby. Much has changed in SoCal fire defense of the last few decades, so I thought they would nip it pretty quickly.

Our local fire department acted quickly and communicated constantly for the first few days, even posting a video to social media illustrating how they kept the fire from reaching our homes and structures. Our home was spared, but the fire then began to act aggressively and spread fast to mountain communities to the north and east. Thanks to technology and ongoing communication, I didn’t panic too much as large smoke columns filled the sky.

As I write this, the fire has grown past 50,000 acres and is minimally contained with the area closest to us being classified as contained. Several mountain communities have been devastated and my heart hurts for them. I’m also currently currently worried about another wildfire, the Line Fire which has spread dangerously close to my childhood summer camp. Just four years ago, the El Dorado Fire had actually entered the same camp and was saved by firefighters already there.

It’s in situations like these where, not too long ago, I would’ve thought “grab a camera and go document.” And certainly I could go document from certain vantage points. But honestly it’s not always a great idea. The air quality is bad, and the last thing firefighters and emergencies workers need are more cars clogging up roadsides near the blaze, most of which are closed to begin with. There are photographers who specialize in these situations, even photographers who seek out storms, tornadoes, and fires on purpose. As of yet, I’m not one of those photographers.

Wildfire damage in natural forest land.

Photographing Damage From The El Dorado Fire

A few weeks ago I made my way up to a special place, a place I’ve thought of as home since I was 14. A place where I still return to every summer to work with a small arts non-profit (www.campbravo.org). A place that was nearly burned down by a massive wildfire.

Camp de Benneville Pines is a small UU camp located near Angelus Oaks, CA. The El Dorado Fire started in far away Yucaipa and was allegedly started by careless people setting off an explosion as part of a so-called gender reveal stunt–in a dry grassy field, during a record heat wave.

The wildfire raged into the hillside directly above camp, but the camp itself was spared. Thanks to many hardworking firefighters who skillfully fought the blaze even as it entered camp in some spots. The very thought of this special place burning down due to such carelessness was enough to have me spiraling.

Reading that they were seeking local volunteers, I drove up there to donate some photography hopefully to help illustrate just how bad the damage is, and how badly this tiny camp needs extra support in order to stay afloat during such impossible times. The camp executive director took me up the hillside to the fire damage is. Where once was a beautiful, lush forest hillside now stands an ashen waste land.

Thankfully, there are some trees still standing. But the destruction this fire wreaked spans tens of thousands of acres.

Growing up in SoCal, I knew about earthquakes of course. I knew about fire season. It’s only been in the last 10 or 15 years that fire season has become something else entirely. Months on end of endlessly destructive wildfires, apocalyptic skies, and terrible air quality.

My hope is that a few of the snapshots show just how badly we need to address our current climate crisis and its effects. In the meantime, if you would consider visiting the website for Camp de Benneville Pines and supporting them with a small donation. On top of being a small business having to navigate being shut down all year, they are now having to manage soil erosion and mudslide risk.

A happy cabin and tall trees spared from any fire damage.

All images are Copyrighted by Matt Lara (Matt Lara Photography) and may not be reproduced without permission.

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An image of the book 52 Weeks in the California Garden

Garden Journal: The Year Starts in September

Being from Southern California, I grew up with earthquakes. Yes, I’m one of those people who will stand there calmly as the earth under my feet literally shakes. The occasional fire might have made the news when I was a kid, but back then climate change was real but mentioned rarely and usually in passing. It wasn’t until the early 2000s that fire season became something so all-consuming. Several fires have threatened my home in the hills over the years, and I’ve been evacuated once in the middle of the night. I’m currently sandwiched between two large fires–the Bobcat Fire and the El Dorado Fire–each burning tens of thousands of acres.

Late September. The wildfires continue to wreak devastation up and down the West Coast, and the sky is filled with a toxic atmosphere of smoke. I’m tending to my garden. A piece of land that was a simple, plain lawn when we first moved here. Now it is a constant work in progress, thanks in many ways to an excellent professional gardener, Miguel.

As of yet, I have to limit my time outside, but do I have my own projects in the garden as well. I keep an eye on the big plants and I’ve spent much of the last few months weeding more than I ever have in my life. The garden has become my sanctuary and the thing that tears my eyes away from computer and phone screens.

I’ve started stacking a growing collection of gardening books along with a few seed catalogs. Finding a copy of Martha Stewart’s Gardening Month by Month at a thrift store was, like many things Martha, the start of a great love. Her yearlong paean to her masterpiece garden at her old Turkey Hill home, paired with incredible photography, is something to behold.

From there, I found myself diving into the wonderful A Way to Garden by Margaret Roach, former head gardening editor at Martha Stewart Living. Her anthropomorphic approach the gardening year as six seasons, starting in birth all the way to death and afterlife. Her “how-to and woo-woo” approach illuminates the elemental joys of gardening.

Still, for some reason most gardening books are centered around an East Coast, New England style of gardening, where there are more conventional seasons–pleasant springs, humid summers, crisp falls, and snowy winters. As opposed to here in California where much of that just simply does not apply. Luckily, I happened upon 52 Weeks in the California Garden by Robert Smaus, former gardening editor at the LA Times. His recommendation is to start the gardening year in September as he states in the Introduction:

“My gardening year begins in lat summer, when I fish out some weathered redwood flats and sow seeds of broccoli, calendula, delphiniums and other things I plan to plant in the fall. In the warm weather of August, seeds don’t sit, but sprout like a rocket lifting off, and six weeks later they’re large enough to go out into the garden…In our climate, fall is spring, at least as far as planting is concerned, and autumn, not spring, should be our busiest time in the garden.”

Having published this in 1997, I don’t think Smaus had to account for the apocalyptic wildfires we have happening now. Still his thoroughness in describing just how to truly maintain a thriving garden amidst the dryness, the Santa Ana winds, the heavy raining season, the ever more common droughts, and our notoriously hard clay soils have become fundamental to me. A guide for each week of the year here in SoCal.

So, here it is. The new gardening year begins, fall as spring, as the West Coast burns to an ashen crisp. I don’t know how to fix these terrible fires beyond acknowledging the impending doom of climate change–but I can make this a small sanctuary for the birds, the bugs, and the humans that pass through.

Speaking of fires, my childhood summer camp is currently being threatened by the El Dorado Fire, the one that started as a botched “gender reveal”. If you have a few extra bucks, please consider helping fund them through this emergency: https://www.uucamp.org/contribute/covid-19-emergency-fund-2/