Aumakua

 So, what to talk about? 

My old pal Brett painted his first surf board ever, if you can believe it? 

Great job, Mr. Stokes. You have quite a talent, mate.

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I was caught in a terrible traffic jam on East Mission the other night, near Hamilton and Fallen Leaf. Bad accident. Cars were dead stopped for about forty five minutes, many turning around. Suddenly a wonderful woman appeared and walked up to me and my fellow unfortunates on the dark road. She beckoned to us, then guided us on a road through her private property and back to Mission around the accident.

Thank you kind woman! 

That was so very cool.

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Allan Seymour sends a pic of his new doorbell. 

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This is a rare shot from my back yard, with the sun just catching the flanks of Gavilan Mountain in the distance.

If you will look closely to the bottom right, you will see our little two story house nestled away, about twenty feet tall.

I mention it because I want you to gauge the height of both my redwood and my oak.

I didn't plant the redwood, the original owner Jasper Lolli did back in 1972.

I estimate that it is seventy five to eighty feet tall now, with an enormous girth that somewhat resembles my own ample spread.

We had two of the sequoia sempervirens but the drought took the smaller one out a few years ago.

This one is really looking good and greened up again, the top now a familiar resting place for red tailed hawks.

I wanted to talk about the oak. It is a coastal live oak quercus agrifolia, and I planted it as a sapling not much bigger than a broomstick. Tom Pecore helped me plant it about thirty eight years ago. We planted lots of stuff on my ranch that is now enormous. Like the Mediterranean fan palm I grabbed from in front of the dozers on Interstate 15 construction in 1983, now towers above the house.

I have three beloved dogs buried under this tree. You can plant me with them but please wait until I have died.

It spreads forty to fifty feet wide and near just as tall.

It is a special tree for me. When I was getting divorced thirty five years ago a psychic helped me rebalance my life by instructing me to put my hands around its then slender trunk and do a series of affirmation and liberation exercises. 

I hold it very dear. 

Our roots go very deep together.

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I sold this 17th century painting of San Isidro to a couple who have been very good clients over the years.  

It is framed in milagros.

It was in terrible shape.

I took it to my restorer in Imperial Beach and she did an incredible job bringing it back to life.

 Many painstaking hours.

I picked it up yesterday in my van and drove it to their home.

San Isidro is beloved in the hispanic world, the patron saint of farmers and working people.

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Roy Costello and I judged the 5150 Ratrod club's car show at the Bonsall school this weekend.

It was a really nice show, not too hot.

Great cars, great halloween sendups.

I used to judge the vintage car show but stopped getting asked when Tom Long died.

I enjoy the ratrodders, they are very creative people who mostly do their own builds and don't take themselves too seriously. 

Nice guys too.

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I met a fellow from Texas while I was there heavily involved in Firefly conservation.

Ben Pfieffer. 

Neat, smart guy, I love fireflies, I bought a shirt.

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I was talking to Warmboe the other day and he had a cool experience. 

He was in Northern Michigan, had gone back to Minnesota to see his ailing mom and her husband.

He told me that he had just drove past a shrieking bald eagle. I asked him if he took a picture and he said that he had not.

A little while later he did in fact send me a picture, not bad with a cell phone, not easy to grab a flying creature on the wing.

Later I asked him what was up and he turned me on to the Hawaiian concept of aumakua. 

He said that initially he didn't stop because he was worried about hitting a deer. Hitting deer is bad for the deer and for the van, for everybody involved really.

In fact a fellow dealer hit one in Texas and it nearly destroyed her car and definitely shattered her nerves for a few days.

Anyway, after we talked, Bill stopped the car, drove back and shot the picture of the eagle. A mile up the road, where he had been previously driving, a woman was now pulled off the road, in fact she had just hit a deer.

Bill had a premonition that that deer was going to hit him and he acted on it, aumakua and was fortunately spared.

Obey your intuition! Honor your ancestors!

In Hawaiian mythology, an ʻaumakua (/ʔaʊmɑːˈkuə/; often spelled aumakua, plural, 'aumākua) is a personal or family god that originated as a deified ancestor, and which takes on physical forms such as spirit vehicles. An 'aumakua may manifest as a shark, owl, bird, octopus, or inanimate objects such as plants or rocks.^[1] The word ʻaumakua means ancestor gods and is derived from the Hawaiian words au which means period of time or era, and makua meaning parent, parent generation, or ancestor. Hawaiians believed that deceased family members would transform into ʻaumakua and watch over their descendants with a loving concern for them while also being the judge and jury of their actions. ^[2]

ʻAumakua were believed to watch over their families and hear their words, give them strength and guidance, warn them of misfortune or danger, give punishments to wrong-doers while also rewarding worthy people with prosperity in the after life, and pass on prayers from the living to the akua (gods).^[2]

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Speaking of birds, I saw two red shouldered hawks on a treebranch on my road at the same time the other day. I can't recall ever seeing a pair hanging out on my road before. What were they trying to tell me I wonder?

And in deference to June Lockhart I can only surmise "What are you saying Lassie, Timmie is now trapped in the well?"

Thank you great spirit.