天堂鸟这个名字第一次听说好像是从琼瑶的作品里，她小说里的金盏花，天堂鸟之类的名字尤如她的作品让人遐想不已。到了北美后，随处可见的天堂鸟老实说有点让人失望的。虽然花朵的颜色艳丽，金黄色的花瓣，紫色的花蕊，绽放时确有几分鸟儿展翅的样子，但总觉得缺少点什么，或许是人的期待太高，或许是因为忖托它的是那些普通、干涩缺水状的枝条绿叶，让它的花朵也跟着失去几分娇嫩。
3月8号一个周日午后，我们又去了一个新海滩，沿着大大的loop走了一个多小时。南边的海更绿、更蓝、更宽， 岸上的建筑和植被也给人耳目一新之感。归途中，我们走进了一条两旁种着各种植物，维护得十分干净整洁的人行道。四、五点钟的阳光从高高的树间散落，海风吹来，清爽怡人。走着走着，某人的脚步慢下，手中的相机举起，对准路旁的天堂鸟频频按下快门。我也停下脚步，端看着这熟悉又好像有点不同的天堂鸟。或许是物随心转，境由心造，或许是一方水土养一方花草，或许是这日日湿润的海风给这片天堂鸟注入一丝海的韵味，让它平添一份妩媚和鲜嫩。
又记，3月7日周六上午踏青寻菊，未果。踏遍整条trail，只寻得一朵雏菊开在路中央, 却不见那一年斜坡上的盛景。某人有点失望有点遗憾，说，看来花季已过。那一刻，我想起自己博客上有记载，赶紧掏出手机查阅。随着手指的滑动，眼睛在2018年3月24日的《三月的野雏菊》停住。我打开博文，移到照片处，把手机欣欣然递到某人眼前，纠正到，时间还没到呢，说完又加了一句，这下你知道写博的好处了吧......
其实，我们的生活远不是如照片上的那么诗情画意，在美国疫情日日攀升之际，在女儿生活的州县每日病例数量往上跳的日子，要说我们做父母的不担心是假的，而我们又能做什么呢？ 不如偷得浮生半日闲。
下面的这些照片都是3/7和3/8拍的，虽然海景看似相似，但它们是不同的。
从家门口出来抬头看见天空上的这个Buy one Get one (free？)的空中广告，赶紧抓拍。
盼归
曾经坐在这里，看云卷云舒，任山风拂面。
He mentioned more than once that the wild daisies on the hillside must be blooming now that it is March. It tickled my fancy of seeing that arid slope to be dotted with daisies again.
On Saturday March 7 we were on our way. We both remember the valley, though not sure where the slope is. The valley is right next to a freeway, which cuts the coastal mountains in halves. Entering the paid parking lot of gravel stone surface, we saw an almost empty one, with only two or three cars. The sun was out, but the morning wind still chilled me a bit as I put on my jacket. At the trail head is a simple shelter, underneath which there is a rough sturdy wooden table with an open self-registration binder asking for visitors' names. He scribbled on it, and there began our hike. The spring is scattering flowers all over the valley, flowers of varied colors and shapes. But apparently it is not the peak time. Or without enough rainfall last winter, will there be?
We followed the beaten trail deeper into tall bushes, the zooming sounds from the freeway muffled. We passed by the only naturally occurring lake in the county, looking between the willows and craning our necks for a better view of the lake. It was empty. As we watched idly, setting our eyes on the canvas by a corner and reading the caption, a pair of ducks, one male and one female, flew by afar and landed, rippling the peaceful surface. The lake is called Barbara Lake, as said in the painting, named after the painter Barbara Stuart. Quoted here is a paragraph, telling us something that we may never be able to find out by our own eyes. “…Tracks in the mud confirm the nightly forays of raccoon, bobcat, coyote and skunk. Ripples on the water’s surface reveal the presence of fish and frogs. Songbirds call out, hidden under the cover of mulefat and willow, while egrets and waterfowl frequent the open water.”
Soon we started our uphill trail，leading us to the top of the mountain ridge. Standing there, overlooking the freeway on one side and red-roofed houses at the foot on the other, we expanded our view to the end of our sight.
Our hike continued, and finally we were approaching the familiar slope. A single sprightly colorful daisy greeted in the middle of the road before its divergence to a downward slope. Much to our disappointment, the expected slope was bare without any flowers. "The flower season for the daisy must be over." said he. "Or maybe it won't bloom this year at all due to insufficient rainfall." I said to myself. But then I remembered I blogged it once. Turning to my blog clarified the date of our last visit was 03/24/2018, a year with scanter rainfall. That means the time for the daisy is yet to come.
