From An Atalaya

June 2022

We live on ¾ acres at the far end of a quiet lane, on a small creek having remodeled the original home, a one story 2 BR 2 Bath home, like most originals in the small development. We added a second story with a bedroom with shower, lots of storage and closet space, and an office space at the top of the stairs that I call my atalaya — a term derived from the Arabic loosely meaning watch tower. The upstairs footprint of the house duplicates that of the ground floor. My office atalaya is central with good views to the north and south. We have now lived here more than twenty years. Our daughters are grown and have moved off into the fullness of young adulthood in a (surprisingly to me) civilized and livable Oakland and Bay Area.

As I write, it is another a cool clear spring day– I reflect that all the days so far in Winter-Spring 2021-2022 have been like today. But we are therefore in a time of relative drought. I look out onto a sea of green foliage. Fluff – tailed gray squirrels, resident or migrating birds, appear, along a pair of ducks who for thirty years, invaded our pool each spring to nest and breed; Are they the same ones? They are bigger and less sleek now, but hang on, as I do myself. Maybe they are not the originals, but I like to think so. I watch the feral black and white striped cat go by, the one that sets off my night motion lights. Small flocks of wild turkeys appear at times, as well as an occasional deer that munches on my fruit trees, or very rarely and briefly, a soft and fleet footed mountain lion that doesn’t even bother look at me.

There had been an extensive olive orchard here once; except for the name —Orchard Lane–,and a few surviving gnarled old olive trees. It is gone. On our lot, four olive trees survive the last citizens of a long gone long row. They faithfully, stubbornly, arrogantly,– or maybe optimistically – drop thousands of dark bitter olives each spring and therefore become a nuisance. That is why their siblings have been sent off to recycling hell. We have preserved the last four straggler- citizens of a long gone long row and a long gone orchard that refuse to cease producing. We marinated some of the olives once, but that is not a simple amateur process; now we buy them at a grocers.

There is a huge loquat tree that also drops pounds of this rare big seeded sweet fruit in springtime. I have planted peaches, apricots, and two prickly pear cactus, that produce the sweet fruit called ‘tuna’; In Chile one can buy them in their January summer from street corner vendors. They are delicious, but have thorns, are chilled and eaten carefully. We have other fruit trees: cherries, figs, English walnuts, a persimmon, and a newly planted cold intolerant chirimoya that was loaded with fruit this year — but lost the entire crop to a single freeze when left out uncovered.

Especially on Mother’s day, My atalaya reminds me of my mother’s farm home in ‘Durham,

California. It featured a farmer’s atalaya!

See https://nwalmanac.wordpress.com/page/3/ titled A Classic Small Farm Home