The Sierra foothills have a distinctive order that immediately brings me back to childhood.

Mountain misery (Chamaebatia foliolosa), madrone, ponderosa pine populate this part of the world, as well as blackberries and wild sweet pea.

It's a heady mix of smells. 

Friends of mine who joined me for camping trips on my Grandparents' land will instantly recognize this smell.  We were lucky enough in our last two years of high school to be able to camp in paradise during the summer.

We were a bunch of hippies and we enjoyed the languorous days and star studded nights.

Going into the wee town of Placerville for groceries was like entering the lion's den after weeks alone.

 Here are damsel flies mating, an entire 'flock' of them - would one call them a flock?  Doubt it.

I have taken many photos of this meadow over the last couple of years.  It can be seen along our regular hiking trail and its marshy lushness changes dramatically with the seasons.  As you can see, the berry vines are in full swing (foreground).

I'm here for several days, and have been looking forward to it for weeks.  A retreat of sorts.  Quiet.  Green.  Verdant.