Good morning and greetings, solstice fans. For change of seasons lovers, there are only three times during the year that the hours of daylight and of darkness are equal – at the spring and fall equinoxes and during halftime of Super Bowl Sunday. During the fall equinox, which arrives this Wednesday, the sun crosses the equator, passes Go and collects $200. This provides the earth with 12 hours of sunlight, a get out of jail free card and a hotel on Park Place.

Thus begins the change that results in winter for the northern hemisphere and summer in the southern. When asked about this flip flopping of seasons, the Beach Boys commented, “the southern hemisphere girls with they walk they talk, they knock me out when I’m down there. The midwest farmer’s daughter’s really make you feel alright, and the northern hemisphere girls with the way they kiss the keep their boyfriends warm at night.”

After the fall equinox and the new TV shows hit the networks, the northern hemisphere of the earth begins to tilt ever so slightly away from the sun, which drives my daughter crazy, thus slowly decreasing the amount of sunshine received until winter solstice, after which the days begin to lengthen again. Or in the words of the group America, “Ventura Highway in the sunshine, where the days are longer, the nights are stronger than moonshine.” Yes, music is my mistress.

So when the fall equinox enters our lives on Wednesday, the northern hemisphere moves away from Donna summer, which we had for about an hour here in Santa Cruz, and results in the beginning of autumn. And if you know Donna, you know, “she works hard for her money, so hard for it honey, she works hard for the money so you better treat her right.” The hits just keep coming.

In New Orleans they celebrate Drew Brees and Fat Tuesday, which is also known as Mardi Gras. As we approach Chubby Wednesday on the seasonal calendar, inquiring minds might wonder, are there any other names for the Fall Equinox? Well, how’s about Autumn Equinox, Cornucopia, Corn on the Cob, Feast of Avilon, Festival of Dionysus, Woodstock II, Harvest Tide, Night of the Hunter, Day of the Jackal, Wine Harvest, Witch’s Thanksgiving, Witchy Woman and my personal favorite, Hotel California.

Now if you’re spiritual-minded like me, and live to meditate and breathe chocolate air, here’s an interesting perspective on the day from Tammy Burnsed of Associated Content from Yahoo Press. By the time of the fall equinox, most of the autumn vegetables, fruits, grains and medicinal herbs have been collected. Mother Earth, when not being pestered by Father Time, has once again provided an abundance of food for her children. The busy time of tending fields, harvesting and living without NBA basketball is almost done and though the work of storing and preserving foods and collecting nuts with the squirrels for the winter still lies ahead, it is time to take a moment of rest and give thanks for all that has been received.

As Diane Stein writes in Casting the Circle, “…with the death of the plants is the birth and the mystery of the seeds. All growth is held in suspension and silence within.” And as we know, coming into the new NBA season, the Miami Heat will be the top seed in the east, with the reigning champions LA Lakers the top seed in the west.

So with autumn slowly working its way into our starting lineup, for today’s photo fondue, we are going back to our beginning, or as Kenny Loggins and Jim Messina say, “maybe I’ll walk on back to Georgia, back this morning, back where I come from.” That would be to the wonderful world of sunrises, where I have found a niche and am very comfortable in this arena, although not as relaxed as I was at the Fabulous Forum during the Magic Johnson “Showtime” years.

The first four images are from one of only two sunrises I’ve shot during my digital days in the month of September. The first three were taken at Steamer Lane and as you can see, the sun reflecting off the water was an attraction I could live with. As the sun climbed upward, clouds continued to gather in the sky and I later returned to the cliff to shoot the rays filtering down onto Monterey Bay (photo #4.) Turns out the clouds were having a convention and I was one of the guest speakers.

The last two images are from a fabulous sunrise from late September of 2007. The final shot was taken in front of my favorite cypress tree along West Cliff Drive. I’m extremely fond of the silhouette action that this sapling brings to the digital table, as I am of the parmesan cheese and panko breaded chicken breast topped with a wine, garlic and butter sauce with sun dried tomatoes over mashed potatoes at Gilbert’s (no relation) Firefish Grill on the Santa Cruz Wharf. It’s the new Locals Only special and it is scrumptiously delicious.

On to the late night. “According to government auditors, the stimulus money is being held up because there aren’t enough government workers to oversee the spending. So follow me, in other words, government workers who aren’t there are needed to spend money we don’t have to create jobs that don’t exist. The Atlantic had a big article on the inevitability of Israel going to war with Iran over building nuclear weapons. But the White House thinks that strong economic sanctions will bring them to their knees, raise unemployment, and cause their factories to close – the same way those economic sanctions worked right here. This whole thing with Iran, it’s amazing how different our cultures are. In Iran a woman can get stoned for committing adultery. See, here in America, women commit adultery while getting stoned.” –Jay Leno

“Here’s a weather update from Florida. This week’s Koran smoke advisory has been lifted. That crazy pastor, remember he was going to burn the Koran, he’s now suspended it. … He said he’s now looking for directions from God on where to go. You know, I can’t speak for God, but I think if he grabs a shovel and starts digging, he’s heading in the right direction. “In the Delaware Republican U.S. Senate primary, Tea Party candidate Christine O’Donnell won a huge upset. Interesting woman, very conservative. She has come out against masturbation. So not only is she against politicians putting their hands in our pockets, she’s against you putting your hands in your own pockets as well.” –Jay Leno “New FBI statistics say that crime in the United States fell 5 percent from last year. Experts say the decrease in crime could be due to the aging of the population, increased incarceration, and many criminals finding jobs in the banking industry and on Wall Street.” –Jimmy Kimmel

So that’s it for our final post for the summer of 2010. I don’t know about you, but after this summer that would have left Mark Twain shivering, I’m going to get myself a warmer bathing suit. And if you have a spare moment, be extremely grateful for your good health. Unlike Jason’s free throw shooting at crunch time, it’s not automatic. We’ll catch you in the double coverage. Aloha, mahalo and later, Red Zone Channel fans.

Good morning and greetings, patchy fog and drizzle fans. Although the skies above Monterey Bay have been cloudier than my future with the State Department, thanks to the boys at NASA, I was able to check out an X-ray photo of the sun, (no, not Jason) last week that revealed plasma blasting off the its surface, which is known as a coronal mass ejection, or what bartenders refer to as a Corona Light. When these particles from the eruption reached Earth last Tuesday, they triggered a brilliant auroral display known as the Northern Lights and back to back episodes of “Rescue Me” and “Louie” on FX.

This story, which comes to us from Yahoo News, alerted me to the fact that skywatchers at high latitudes were in for a spectacular treat of the aurora borealis, which took center stage last Tuesday night. Like my warmup routine at my hatha yoga class, after a relatively quiet stretch, the sun appears to be ramping up its activity.

The sun’s surface erupted like George Steinbrenner last Sunday, blasting tons of plasma (ionized atoms and eves) into space, which is like milk being blown through a straw at 2.5 million miles an hour. These atoms headed towards Earth and created a stunning light show that folks hadn’t seen since Jimi Hendrix played the Fillmore East back in the 60’s. This spectacular solar activity was captured by photographers but not by yours truly, as it was way past my bedtime and I had an early wakeup call for a hand modeling shoot.

“This eruption was directed right at us and arrived here, along with A-Rod’s 600th home run, early in the day on August 4th,” said Leon Golub of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics. “It’s the first major Earth-directed eruption in quite some time and about damn time he broke out of that batting slump.”

The solar eruption was spotted by NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory, which captures high-definition views of the sun at a variety of wavelengths along with studying why baseball doesn’t use instant replay. SDO was launched in February and peers deep into the layers of the sun, investigating the mysteries of its inner workings, much like my own psychoanalysis.

Views of aurorae are usually associated with Canada, Alaska and fans of Timothy Leary, but amateur astronomers and insomniacs in the northern U.S. states were told to look toward the north Tuesday and Wednesday evenings for rippling “curtains” of green and red light. And if any yellow light was spotted, observers were told to, if safe, prepare to stop short of the intersection.

When a coronal mass ejection reaches Earth, solar particles stream down our planet’s magnetic field lines toward the poles, urging us to vote. In the process, the particles collide with atoms of nitrogen and oxygen in the Earth’s atmosphere, which then glow, creating an effect similar to miniature neon signs saying “open 24 hours” and “ATM machine inside.”

The interaction of the solar particles with our planet’s magnetic field creates geomagnetic storms, or disturbances in our planet’s magnetosphere, resulting in the creation of groups like the Tea Party or Mother Grizzlies. This latest blast sparked a storm that lasted for nearly 12 hours, enough time for auroras to spread all the way from Europe to North America. The auroras turned the sky purple, green, blue, and orange, which are the same colors I dream in after eating some Cherry Garcia right before I go to sleep.

The sun’s activity, like my training for Ironman Triathlon, usually ebbs and flows on a fairly predictable cycle. Typically, a cycle lasts about 11 years, a period of time when there are few sunspots, to peak at the solar maximum, during which sunspot activity is amplified while I focus on nutrition, hydration and making sure my living trust is up to date.

The last solar maximum occurred in 2001. The latest minimum, like the Bush years, was particularly weak, long-lasting and devastating to our nation. The most recent solar eruption is one of the first signs that the sun, and hopefully lawmakers in Washington, are waking up and heading toward another maximum, where hope and jobs are created and we can outsource that monetary stress that pervades our country right now.

So in honor of the solar tsunami that sports fans were treated to last week, today we are going back to the beginning. These photos feature the first sunrise I ever shot with a digital camera, back in early January of 2005. When I first saw the colors from this morning, I wondered if the computer had altered them as they were so unusual, or a George Costanza would say, “a pinkish hue.”

The reason for these unique colors is that I shot this series way before the sun rose. I took this as a good sign for Sunrise Santa Cruz as just a few days later I shot my all-time favorite sunrise (Orange Explosion) on Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday. But this morning, like the first time I laid eyes on my wife and being named to the Dean’s List at Syracuse, are moments that I carry very my close to my heart and kidneys.

Let’s go to the late night. “Happy birthday to President Obama. Republicans tried to block his birthday but they didn’t have enough votes, so it went through and the President was able to turn 49 today right on schedule.” –Jimmy Kimmel “Happy birthday to President Obama. If you want to get him a present, he’s registered at Bed, Bath, and Blame Bush.” –Jay Leno “President Obama is 49 years old today. He blew out all of his candles and wished for his old job back.” –David Letterman

“According to the National Enquirer, Bristol Palin has called of her engagement with Levi Johnston after finding out that he also got his ex-girlfriend Lanesia Garcia pregnant. Forget the oil spill, can someone put a cap on this guy.” –Jay Leno “Sarah Palin today said she has mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, she was never a big fan of Levi in the first place, but on the other hand, she had already shot the polar bear to make her daughter’s wedding dress.” –Jimmy Kimmel “President Obama announced his plan to remove all combat troops from Iraq by the end of August. So thank you to all the men and women serving in Iraq and ‘Good luck in Afghanistan!'” –Jimmy Fallon

So that’s our show. Birthday wishes go out to my EPA investigating cousin Geri Gilbert, who turns the big 50 today. And on Thursday it’s my old West Cliff pal Linda Krause, who never met a mango she didn’t like and doesn’t blame herself for the Celtic’s loss in game seven of the NBA Finals.

So be glad you’re not vacationing in Pakistan because heavy monsoon rains have created floods that are ravaging this nation-Osama Bin Laden hasn’t been on Facebook for days . And those wildfires raging in Russia are no day at the beach either, with the smoke causing the worst air pollution in that country’s history. So I guess I can live with a little coastal fog and beach volleyball.

So enjoy the last couple weeks of having the kids at home. And speaking of which, Jason was at Yankee Stadium last Wednesday when A-Rod hit his 600th homer. He didn’t catch the home run ball, but did manage to snag a Nathan’s Famous hot dog, a Johnny Rockets burger and a slice of Famiglia’s pizza. And that was just during batting practice. We’ll catch you behind the pitcher’s mound. Aloha, mahalo and later, Derek Jeter fans.

Good morning and greetings, heat wave fans. While the east coast was suffering under scorching, brutal, record breaking heat and humidity last week, the central coast was cooler than the other side of my pillow. If you like cold and foggy weather in the July, then Santa Cruz was the place to be. What tourist doesn’t love wearing mittens and a down jacket at the beach? Or to paraphrase my old pal Mark Twain, “the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer riding the Big Dipper.”

The temperatures have been sweltering inland, but the chilly, gray sky mornings are normal weather for the coast. According to meteorlogist Diana Henderson of the National Weather Service in Monterey, “it’s not unusual. This happens every year at this time. That’s why they film ‘Baywatch’ in Hawaii.” It’s understandable, because we wouldn’t want to see Pamela Anderson wrapped in a blanket as she tries to save a school of baby dolphins from getting caught in a riptide. That would defeat the porpoise.

The central coast’s frigid summer conditions comes mostly from the chilly Pacific Ocean, which acts as an air conditioner and minty air freshener, according to Henderson. “Without it, we’d be Nevada.” That’s right, blackjack, showgirls and the illusions of Siegfried & Roy, right here, where the redwoods meet the sea and anarchy.

My thanks to Shanna McCord of the Santa Cruz Sentinel for the weather service updates. When I woke up Tuesday morning, the ground was soaked like my tank top after a ten mile run up the coast. It looked like rain, but it was actually the drizzle from the heavy fog. I hadn’t seen that much condensation on the ground since Jennifer Beals took the stage in ‘Flashdance.’

That brings us to our top news story of the week. As reported by Andrew Zajac in the Los Angeles Times, the Agriculture Department’s Natural Resources Conservation Service said it would begin paying some gulf region farmers, ranchers and football coaches to flood their fields so that migratory birds can find alternative rest and nesting grounds to oil-fouled habitats.

The Migratory Bird Habitat Initiative will pay to use up to 150,000 acres of land “to provide feeding, resting and reading areas for migratory birds.” The program applies mainly to former wetlands, low-lying land and skateboard parks in Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, Texas and France. Conservation officials are hoping to attract birds who don’t have internet access to safe areas before they land on shores and wetlands contaminated by the massive oil spill.

Landowners would be expected to flood fields and promote the growth of vegetation and snacks favored by migratory birds, or to enhance existing wetlands on their properties, as rice fields, fish farms and Long John Silver restaurants are particularly suited to the initiative.

The Deepwater Horizon oil spill has fouled off numerous pitches along with marshes and coastal areas relied on by birds and other wildlife. The gulf region sits beneath one of the world’s major migratory flyways, with about 1 billion birds from more than 300 species passing through annually, says Greg Butcher, a vegetarian and director of bird conservation for the National Audubon Society. “None of this is guaranteed to work,” Butcher says. “We’re expecting that this will work at least a little bit. We’re hoping that it’ll help a lot. What I’m really trying to say is these birds are screwed”

On that positive note, in a story reported by Michael Kunzleman for the Associated Press, less than three years before New Orlean Saints won the Super Bowl and the Gulf oil spill erupted, federal regulators and a couple of fortune tellers concluded several offshore drilling projects posed a low risk to endangered wildlife – a determination that contrasts sharply with recent scenes of birds and vacationers struggling to survive the slick.

A September 2007 memo from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service said large oil spills from the proposed Gulf drilling projects under review were “low-probability events” that weren’t likely to affect brown pelicans, sea turtles, other animals or the economic futures of fisherman, shrimpers and oyster lovers with Gulf Coast habitats.

The memo concluded that the chance of oil from an offshore spill of at least 1,000 barrels reaching endangered species or their habitats was no greater than 26 percent. Now, I’m no math whiz, but I’d calculate their estimates were off by, approximately, let’s say, a million percent.

Less than three months before the Fish and Wildlife Service issued its memo, the National Marine Fisheries Service concluded that the same Gulf leases, including BP’s for Deepwater Horizon, were “not likely to jeopardize the continued existence of threatened or endangered species.” Well, I’m sure that comes as a relief to all the migrating birds and their families. Because as we all know, a bird in the hand is worth two gallons in the Bush administration.

So in honor of Larry Bird and friends, I thought we would take a look at some winged creatures who reside here on the central coast. We start with a great blue heron, who I photographed right outside the arch early one morning at Its Beach. I shot the snowy egret in the landing mode right after it had flown through the same arch on an extreme low tide afternoon. This was the same day I photographed a rainbow through the arch and decided that I wanted to be Mikhail Baryshnikov when I grow up.

Then it’s onto four snowy egrets in a marshland up in Richardson Bay in Mill Valley, followed by some pink flamingos vacationing in Palm Desert and a snowy egret reflecting in the pond at Natural Bridges. Flamingos don’t actually live here on the central coast but sometimes journey to Monterey Bay for a spa weekend and to have their legs shaved. Much like myself, they enjoy standing on one leg with the other tucked beneath their body. It’s both relaxing and a way to save on the wear and tear of our shoes.

The final image is a red shouldered hawk, who I photographed at Antonelli’s Pond, which is less than a mile by the way the crow flies from my compound here on the westside. It was early in the afternoon when I spotted this beauty. With my zoom, I was able to get close enough to get a shot of those incredible talons wrapped around the branch. And the best part is, this is the only hawk, besides Dominique Wilkins, that I’ve seen in this spot over the past eleven years. There’s something about capturing the flag or the moment.

Here’s a taste of the late night. “The East Coast is suffering from a terrible heat wave. Wall Street bankers are jumping out of windows just for the cool breeze on the way down. You people are so lucky you live in California. This heat wave back east is just unbelievable. … It was so hot in Washington, Nancy Pelosi skipped the Botox, had her face injected with frozen yogurt. Back in 1776, Americans were fighting to escape British rule, these days we’re fighting to escape British oil. They say traces of BP’s oil has started turning up in disturbing places, like congressmen’s pockets.” –Jay Leno

So that’s our show, petroleum lovers. Here’s a few quick petro facts before I cruise off into the fog bank. Americans drivers consume 19-20 million barrels of oil every 24 hours. That’s 10,000 gallons a second. If we all drove 30 miles less per week, oil consumption would drop 20%. Then again, if my aunt had,er, spheres, she’d be my uncle. Just a few things to think about the next time you fill up the old Hummer.

So in honor of the uniting of LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, I’m taking my Sonny Crockett jacket out of mothballs. Sorry Knick fans, but your suffering will continue.

So enjoy the long days of summer and let’s hope someday that we leave Afghanistan. And if you have moment, say a little prayer for the displaced and homeless. We’ll catch you in the American Airlines Arena. Aloha, mahalo and later, David Lee fans.

Good morning and welcome to the happiest place on the earth. On Tuesday morning I decided to take a trip to Four Mile Beach. I figured what the heck, even if the clouds weren’t that exotic, there would still be hundreds of gulls for me to Barry bonds with. When I crossed the railroad tracks and headed down the path to the beach I immediately spotted a big cat (photo #1) about 50 yards away. Now, I’ve seen a bobcat before at Four Mile but when it saw me it ran into the brush faster than an Exxon executive leaving an Earth Day picnic. But this fellow didn’t run and hide like a Bush spokesman, instead he rambled along the path with me in hot pursuit. And since I had downed my Wheaties that morning, I was feeling fresh and excited, like Kool and the Gang at the Grammys.

I followed this nocturnal hunter for a couple of hundred yards. He headed down the beach and onto the sand before heading back into the brush. As you can tell by my shots, I was close enough to observe his spots, his distinctive color pattern and count his freckles. Much like myself, bobcats are shy, solitary, generally elusive animals. The name comes from the short, bobbed tail or from the surname Robert. They are members of the cat family along with lions, leopards, pumas, lynxes, jaguars, cheetahs, tigers and white sox.

Throughout this tracking experience this wild animal would stop and stare at me. I thought, it’s just a bobcat, not a mountain lion, he’s not going to attack me. As we headed up the slope of the cliff above the ocean he stopped and turned. I was shooting away like Ansel Adams on meth. I had him perfectly framed in my view finder and was already thinking up the subject title for the blog. All of a sudden, he starts to move in my direction. I’m thinking, uh, oh, did I miss this episode of “When Animals Attack? I’m not a outdoorsman, I’m a blogger, dammit. All of a sudden, I’m getting Marlon Perkins flashbacks. Fortunately, this wildcat stopped in his tracks as he may have been intimidated by my Docker shorts and Hillary Duff sweatshirt.

After seeing my life flash before my eyes I scooted out of there faster than a lawyer on a duck hunt with Dick Cheney and made my way back to the beach. It was low tide and the harbor seals were basking and robbins on the sea shelfs by the sea shore. The last shot is actually from an earlier visit but I thought I’d throw it in to celebrate the fact that I’m not writing this from a hospital bed. As you can see from the photos whenever I come in contact with harbor seals, they never take their eyes off me. It reminded me of my hand modeling days. But here’s the kicker. One of my Arizona-based field scouts emailed an article about a rabid bobcat attacking two hikers yesterday in the Santa Rita mountains. Wow. I don’t know about you, but I always find that series of deep puncture wounds always spoils my day. But maybe that’s just me.

The bottom line is that while I was shooting away like Chuck Connors in “The Rifleman” all those shots of the cat were actually out of focus. My camera instead was zooming in on the the flowers and brush in front of Miss Kitty. I was excited as a schoolgirl when I came home and downloaded these shots. I already had National Geographic on the speed dial. I was disappointed, kind of like when I saw my SAT scores. But in the words of Chelsea Clinton and Fleetwood Mac, “Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow, it’ll be here, better than before, yesterday’s gone, yesterday’s gone.” Or in the words of yours truly, don’t put off today what you can put off tomorrow.

So have a tremendous sports weekend, enjoy the final matzo brei filled days of Passover and we’ll catch you for sunrise Monday. As for me, I’ll be hunting the big cats. Either that or watching enough NBA playoff basketball to make your eyes bleed. Catch you down low. Aloha.