During the Covid 19 pandemic, I have spent a great deal of time at home in my yard, alone. And I have increasingly yearned for the ocean. So yesterday, as a birthday treat, I drove to the Marin Headlands and walked on the pebbles that make up Rodeo Beach.

To get to the pebbles, you first cross a lagoon on a footbridge

The lagoon is not permanent – winter storms tear apart the sand barrier and allow the seawater to mix with the fresh water in the stream that comes down the valley, but then the barrier rebuilds and the lagoon is again cut off and becomes brackish, and a home to many birds and animals.

But I was there for the ocean…

I was there to walk along its water, inhaling the tang of salt water, hearing the roar of the waves as they came in, exploring the cliffs it has eroded, and the things it washes up onto the beach.

The geology of the Marin Headlands Terrance is complicated:  there are three main different types of rocks – pillow basalt (which was formed from magma from the East Pacific Rise), chert, from silica-saturated seawater deposited on top of the basalt to form chert, and sandstone, deposited on top of the chert as the Farallon plate encountered the Franciscan subduction zone.  There are also siltstone and shale.  Unfortunately, I’m not a geologist, so, although I did the research to understand what I just wrote, I can’t really recognize each type of rock.

I do know, however, that the rocks standing off shore are basalt – they are the hardest rock, and have eroded slower than the chert and sandstone, which must have gotten folded around the basalt, leaving pockets to be cut away by the ocean to leave the basalt standing alone

The pebbles that make up the beach have clearly eroded from both the basalt (the black pebbles) and the chert (the red ones). The pebbles look as though they were tumbled in a gigantic rock.tumbler – which is exactly what the ocean is.

Of course, all of these things got mixed together. I think this is red chert with something folded inside…

I came across a fairly small rock that looked like basalt – but what was the white stuff mixed in?

And where did it come from? Just a few steps north and east, I found the answer to that question, but not what it is!

But perhaps the things I enjoyed the most on that walk were the things that the ocean had cast up. Like this piece of a marine plant that was almost frilly

And there was the boulder that must be under water a good deal of the time (I was obviously there at low tide) because it had lots of seaweed clinging to it.

There were birds, too: A turkey vulture soaring effortlessly over head.

And an egret fishing in the surf. It ignored my approach, clearly focusing on prey, and at the end it caught something and flew away with it in its beak.

There were interesting marine animals attached to the rocks, too. Wish I knew what they are – some of them are obviously barnacles, but the rest…. Unknown but picturesque

There were also some ‘marine’ mammals jumping in and out of the surf and having a great time….As you no doubt understand from the gray overcast, it wasn’t warm that day – I was wearing 3 layers including a down sweater, but I guess younger is warmer…

Kelp cast up on the shore caught my eye.

And invited a closeup of the shapes

I realized that one of the kelp’s ‘hold downs’ was actually grasping a piece of rock that obviously had been a part of the underwater geology before it was torn loose by the wave action.

Nearby, there was a colony of goose barnacles (according to my iNaturalist app, it’s Pollicipes polymerus).

And then it was time to just soak up the ocean awhile, sitting on the pebbles.

Wonderful way to spend the day during these trying times! I was impressed that at least 95% of the people walking the beach were wearing masks, and definitely keeping large distances between them and everyone else….

Written and posted at Berkeley, CA 7/12/20

One of the treasures of Berkeley is the University’s Botanical Garden. I have been a member for many years, and this year began volunteering as a “roving ambassador.”

Today turned out to be what the Irish would probably call “a fine soft day”. I was scheduled to ‘rove’ from 12 to 2, and the weather app said that the rain would let up about then. When I checked in at the kiosk, the person there told me that the weather made it unnecessary for me to be there – there weren’t many people visiting the garden.

She was right, I talked to one family who were just leaving, and a couple who are long time members, so there wasn’t much education to be done. But what a wonderful time to be in the Garden! I could pretend that it was my own private garden, and just enjoy a ramble through it.

The hills surrounding the Garden were wreathed in wisps of fog,

And the spiral aloe (Aloe Polyphylla from South Africa) revealed its intricacies, which were outlined by tiny drops of rain

The Japanese Persimmon (Diospyrus Kaki from Honshu, Japan) was ablaze with color,

And the Japanese Pool, seen through a frame of maples, encouraged a stop to meditate on the joys of water and color…

The pool, visited close up, revealed a montage of leaves amongst the water lily pads

I thought that I saw a newt amongst the leaves, but was unable to get a photo – soon, with the coming of the rainy season, he and his kind will be drawn irresistibly to the pool to mate, lay eggs, and bring forth the next generation.

On the way up the hill towards the rose garden, my eye was caught by these berries. No, they aren’t cranberries or anything remotely like that – they are the fruit of the Asparagus Maritimus, from Italy – the plant we know as “asparagus fern”.

In the winter garden, shapes and textures stand out. Here, the shapes of the Mediterranean Fan Palm, Chamaerops Humilis, Var. Argentina from Italy.

At this point, I suddenly realized how wet I had become, and how few people I had encountered, and home and a hot drink beckoned!

Mary

Berkeley, 12/1/19

What can I say about the dunes of the Sahara, other than that they are incredibly beautiful. We stayed in a tented camp near Merzouga, which is in southeastern Morocco, about 30 miles from the border with Algeria, and at about 2,400 ft elevation. One evening we went to the Erg Chebbi dunes to watch the sunset.

As the sun went down, the color of the dunes changed,

And the edges of the dunes became more pronounced.

Here is a quintessential photo: a line of camels going by (tourists, not nomads!)

One final photo:

Photos taken 9/25/19 about 7PM

Written and posted from London, England 10/13/19

We went today to the British Library in London, an incredible treasure house of books, manuscripts, maps, stamps, sounds and audio recordings…..between 170 and 200 million items, growing each day by about 8,000 items (It is the legal depository for everything published in the UK and Ireland). And amazingly enough, anyone who has a legitimate need to use its collections can apply for a Reader Pass and call for most any book in its collection. You simply need to show proof of signature and address – and you don’t have to be a citizen, either. The books cannot be removed from the library, but you are free to read them during the Library’s open hours.

We took the “Treasures of the Library” tour and were amazed at the books and manuscripts we saw – just a small percentage of the whole! For example, there is a copy of the Magna Carta (the library has 2, one was badly damaged in a fire) but unfortunately, the lights over the case don’t allow for clear photographs. This is the best I could do:

Of course, there are many sacred texts, including the Codex Sinaiticus from the 4th century (sorry, the photo I took didn’t come out). But there are many other sacred texts.

Here, the Wycliffite Bible, which John Wycliffe translated from the Latin in about 1384. It was illegal to own a copy of this translation without a bishop’s permission (many of Wycliffe’s views were viewed as heretical by Church authorities). This copy was owned by Thomas of Woodstock, duke of Gloucester, youngest son of King Edward III and Philippa of Hainaut

And Tyndale’s New Testament. William Tyndall translated the Bible from more historic texts – Greek and/or Hebrew, and he used everyday English. Again, it was illegal to make such a translation (regarded as dangerous to the Church) and he was burned at the stake in 1536. Ironically, however, his translation was included in later editions of the Bible, and about 80% of the King James Version is based upon his translation. A further irony is that this copy was owned by Anne Boleyn, mother of Queen Elizabeth I, who was succeeded by James I, who sponsored the translation and publication of the Bible.

One of the most beautiful of sacred texts displayed, to my mind, is a book “Songs in Praise of the Prophet” from Java, Indonesia, 1864. The text is written in Arabic and there is a translation into Javanese (in Arabic script) written in a smaller hand in between each verse.

Here is a magnificent Qur’an, the Mamluk Qur’an from the 14th century

Of course, Judaism is reflected in the collection. Here is a page from the Duke of Sussex’s “Italian Pentateuch”, created in Florence, Italy between 1441 and 1467 and written by Isaac Ben Obadiah of Forli.

This is Rani Jinan’s Prayer book, created between 1828 and 1830. Each hymn begins with a full-page colored illustration. Interestingly enough, this is the only book displayed with a cloth beneath it. Unfortunately, I was unable to ask why this is so – perhaps the book was wrapped in this cloth originally?

Here is a Gutenberg Bible, printed about 1454-55 in Mainz. The illuminations were added by hand, probably in Erfurt.

A commonly held belief is that the Gutenberg Bible was the first book to be produced with movable type. NOT SO! The Chinese first came up with the idea in the 1040s, using type of baked clay, which was not very durable, and the Koreans refined the concept, producing the first books in this fashion in the early 13th century. The earliest surviving Korean book printed with movable type dates from 1377. This book, a commentary on the Chinese classic “Spring and Autumn Annals” was printed in 1442.

Yes, of course, the Library has a copy of Shakespeare’s “First Folio”. Again, it was difficult to photograph because of the reflection on the case, sorry.

The Library’s collection includes musical manuscripts as well:

Here is “My Ladye Newell’s Booke” written in England in 1591 by the scribe John Baldwin. His style lets you almost hear the music!

There are handwritten texts of music by the Beatles, of course, including “Yesterday” but photography of them is forbidden. So here is a Johann Sebastian Bach’s “Wo sol Ich fliehen hin” from 1724.

And Chopin’s “Barcarolle in F sharp major, op 60” from 1846. He apparently wrote out this copy to be used in the preparation of the first edition of the piece issued by his publishers Breitkopf & Hartel.

This is just a small part of the “Treasures of the British Library” exhibit – priceless treasures indeed!

Mary

Written and posted in London, England, 10/12/19

What do goats have to do with oil? Well, in Morocco, there are some goats that climb trees

The trees are Argan trees, and when we saw them in October, they were in a fairly dormant state, but that didn’t keep the goats from climbing them, looking for any remaining fruits and/or leaves. The trees produce fruit that consist of a thick peel covering a fleshy pulp that surrounds a hard-shelled nut. That nut, when properly handled, produces a highly prized oil.

Here is the young goatherd, 15 years old, whom we met while driving through the area where the trees grow. He told us that he had gone to school for 7 years, but then his father required him to quite school to help the family by herding the family’s goats.

So how do the goats come into it? Well, in many areas the goats eat the fruit, and the nuts pass through them and are retrieved in the resultant droppings. In others, the fruits are picked, and dried in the open air so as to able to remove the fruit and reach the nuts. (The pulp then is used as animal feed.)

But once the nuts have been extracted, the hard work begins, because the shells are very hard. And no mechanical process has been found to allow the kernels to be extracted, so the work is one by hand, mostly by Berber women, working in women-owned cooperatives.

Each woman seems to have her own rocks – one she uses as the ‘anvil’ and the other as the pounding implement:

One of the women in our group sat down to help and, after successfully cracking a nut, was rewarded with a happy smile:

The work is very arduous – it takes more than one strike to crack the nut, and the baskets of nuts fill up slowly

The cracked nuts look almost like raw Lima beans

They then go to women who grind the nuts into the oil.

We were told that the work is so arduous that the women trade off jobs – pounding them to break them open for awhile, then grinding the nuts on a specially made grindstone.

This last photo courtesy of Caroline Kingsley, with whom I traveled. I habitually bring along a small ‘instant’ camera, (like the Polaroids of old) and take pictures of people I meet. I was busy handing out pictures to each of the women in the shop, and therefore neglected to take pictures of any that were grinding.

We, of course, bought some of the cooperative’s products. We quickly learned that oil for cosmetic purposes is made from unroasted nuts, while oil for use in food (for example, it’s delicious when you dip bread in it, as you would do with olive oil) is made with nuts that have first been roasted before being ground.

Yes, of course I bought some!

Written & posted from London, England

On the way home 10/11/19

On one of our last days in Casablanca, we walked through a local market. Of course, it boasted things like horse meat, vegetables, spices, and couscous, but one corner of it was given over to all things olives!

Throughout our time in Morocco, we had the opportunity to sample many different types (and colors) of olives. We learned, while visiting a farmer and his family, that there are three colors of olives – green, red, and black. They all grow on the same tree, and the difference is simply in how ripe the olives are. The least ripe are green, followed by red, and the ripest are black. (Of course, there are man different varieties of olives.)

But what happens to the olives after they are picked makes a great deal of difference! The olives in the nearest crock in this picture seem to have been dusted with different herbs, and perhaps bits of orange or lemon peels:

The olives in this picture seem to come in many colors of the rainbow. In the back, you can make out preserved lemons as well, and there also seem to be some grains in the very front.

And finally, just so that things don’t get too monotonous, the market also includes preserved chilis and capers.

Wish I could have captured the wonderful aromas!

Mary

Posted from London, England on the way home 10/11/19

The Hassan II mosque in Casablanca is the third largest in the world (mosques in Saudi Arabia are larger) It is 660 feet long and 330 feet wide, and it boasts the second highest minaret, at 650 feet. 25,000 people can worship inside the building at one time, and another 85,000 outside in the courtyard.

The mosque is partially built over the Atlantic Ocean, apparently because the Quaran states that “God’s Throne was built over the water.”

The doors are brass and titanium

Very highly detailed

And there are 40 fountains surrounding the building.

With exquisite Zellige (the name for this kind of mosaic)

Almost all of the building materials are from Morocco, except for the white marble pillars and the Murano glass chandeliers, all from Italy. The cedar is from the Middle Atlas Mountains, and it is intricately carved, like the railing around the women’s mezzanine.

Women have a separate entrance for worship from that of the men, which leads directly to the mezzanine. Everywhere we are reminded that, under the current “Family Law,” women are equal to men – but in this case, it appears that this means “separate but equal.”

And, it appears that the carved cedar is not enough, so this stairway is also ornamented with zellige.

Here is a picture of the main sanctuary. It is aligned to the east (the direction of Mecca) with the mihrab at its east end. People in the picture give you some idea of scale – it’s 200 feet from floor to ceiling. The two center sections of roof are retractable, so that worshipers can pray in the open air.

The side aisles are also quite beautiful

And the mugarnas are very intricate. They are also know as “stalactite vaults” and they are symbolic of the creation of the universe by God. These are atop some of the pillars.

Nor only are the mugarnas in many places carved, but they are also painted.

There are many arches in the building, and they, too, are ornamented. Some are just painted,

While others seem also to be carved.

Many beautiful details of the Mosque attracted my camera lens:

Adjacent to the mihrab is this plaque:

Translation: A gift of God.

And another inscription, in the ablutions chamber beneath the prayer hall has the final word:

Allah is the owner of the world.

Mary

Casablanca

Monday, 10/7/19

Everywhere you go in Morocco, you see cats. Some of them, like the cats in our riad in Marrakech, seem attached to a place, and its owners,

but most of them are feral. It is pretty clear that neutering feral cats is not practiced here!

Some of the cats looked pretty ill-fed and sick, but this one seemed well fed, and certainly comfortable in a bowl outside a shop in the Medina of Essouiria

And this one looked pretty self-satisfied

And may have been looking so happy because of the proximity to this “Cat House” just a few steps away

This cat seemed to be keeping a keen eye out for something:

These two obviously considered the merchandise to be their own personal pillows

Meal time:

Mama and her two kittens had obviously made themselves comfortable, especially the kitten in the basket

This cat had appropriated the step immediately in front of a busy shop, and people obligingly stepped over, so as not to disturb its slumber

And this cat had obviously landed in paradise – it was waiting patiently at the feet of a butcher,

Who every so often threw it a scrap of meat.

Mary

Written and posted in Casablanca

Monday, 10/7/19

On this trip, we have stayed in a variety of accommodations: Tents in the Sahara, hotels, and twice now, in a riad. A riad is a small private hotel in a building which was originally constructed as a traditional home.

The one in which we stayed most recently is the Riad Palais des Princesses. It is located in the Médina of Marrakech, and is reached through a maze of alleys leading from the main square.

After turning off the main alley and making another turn, this is what you see, and you wonder if you have gone the wrong way:

You come upon a fairly anonymous opening and turn down it, wondering what kind of a lodging you will find. After all, the city of Marrakech was found in 1064, so the houses in its Medina must have been built fairly close to that time.

What you first come upon is the resident mother cat and her kittens, who seem to really enjoy lounging in this pot!

Then you enter the main open air courtyard, and are immediately charmed by the marble fountain tinkling in the center, filled with rose petals, and the birds singing and flying in and out. Here is a picture of that courtyard from above.

The walls and doors in this courtyard are beautifully decorated. Here are the doors,

And the beautifully carved plaster immediately above, which, unlike most of the carved plaster we have seen in Morocco, is painted as well

My room was on the top floor, reached by a narrow and winding stair, with a chandelier overhead and hand painted mural on the wall.

And actually consisted of two rooms, which wrapped around an interior courtyard, seen through one of the windows that looked onto it:

Here, the woodwork was painted with flower motifs. Here’s the side of the shutter that faced the room,

And the side of the shutter that faced the courtyard was also decorated, although no one could have seen the decorations.

The doors to the closets were similarly elaborate:

I looked through one of my windows and saw a window opposite that did not have glass or shutters:

And soon discovered that this gave on another set of stairs

which climbed to the roof garden

Where several of us sat one evening to enjoy a glass of wine and the breeze (the temperature in Marrakesh had dropped to 95 this day)

We enjoyed three nights in the riad, before taking our leave. We were not unduly surprised to see that the cats were at the front door, waiting to bid us goodbye!

Mary

Published from Essaouira 10/4/19

There are two types of Berber nomads: semi-nomads, who move once a year between more or less permanent homes in the high mountains, and in the valleys at lower elevations. And the truly nomadic people who move more or less continuously and do not have permanent lands.

Driving through the Middle Atlas Mountains, on the way from Fez to the Sahara, we met Maymouna and her family.

Theirs is a semi-nomadic family, which consists of Maymouna, the great grandmother, her son, Mohammed, and daughter-in law, Hajo, her grandson, Hamid (who was out with the flock) and his wife, Hajiba, and her 2 great grandchildren. We were invited to take off our shoes and enter the tent, sitting on rugs under a cloth roof woven of goat hair by Maymouna and the other women in the family.

Nomadic hospitality was immediately offered, in the form of cups of steaming mint tea (which is sometimes referred to as “Moroccan Whiskey”.

The tea was brewed by Maymouna’s daughter-in-law, Hajo. This picture shows her at work, and gives you an idea of the ‘kitchen’ area of the tent.

The family has a solar panel, which charges a car battery, which in turn is used to charge their phones, which allows them to communicate with each other while out herding the animals, and with other members of the tribe who hold grazing rights to this area.

What pervaded the home, however, was love. It was most obvious in the care that is taken of the children, their happy, healthy bodies, and in the interactions between grandparents and grandchildren:

Here, grandpa shares a laugh with one of his grandchildren:

And the other grandchild finds a comfortable grandmotherly lap

A few days later, in the Sahara, we met another woman, Itto. She is a nomad, but told us she does not move from her current location. Unlike Maymouna’s family, there is no father or grandfather in the picture. Itto’s husband left her when he took a second wife, leaving her with 4 daughters. And the same thing happened to Itto’s daughter.

Itto almost never looked at us directly. Her eyes were usually cast down, and she frequently put her hand over them. It was obvious that there was love between Itto and her granddaughter, who came to sit with her grandmother soon after we arrived.

The tent into which we were welcomed was very bare, and the cloth roof was becoming threadbare. There was only a very sketchy shelter for the animals, and not many of them.

We gave Itto presents, including a gift of money (about $10 US), and I took instant photos of her and her granddaughter, over which they wondered. Our last glimpse was of Itto examining a photo of her granddaughter and holding the tea we had brought, with a view of their threadbare tent behind her. Itto and her family clearly live on the edge, surviving, I suspect, just barely, with no room for anything but necessities.

I was in tears when I left, remembering the precious great grandchildren of Maymouna, and the bicycle and toy bear belonging to her grandchildren in their tent, which Itto’s granddaughter could never dream of receiving in her lifetime.

Mary

Written and posted from Essaouira, Morocco

10/3/19