This embowered house sits on a huge lot in the middle of Pescadero, not a grand mansion but still most likely the original headquarters around which the humble little town grew up.
I was trying out the zoom on the new camera, using this bird house as a target. It sits on a pole in the backyard (seen below) of another rambling old house in Pescadero.
Yarrow supported by weathered pickets.
A small river or large creek runs through the town. We stood on the bridge and threw sticks into the water.
Crossing the road we waited to see the sticks float on the current and emerge on the other side of the bridge, but they never did.
These roses were growing wild in among the saplings along the river/creek. Because of a breeze the close-up was difficult to photograph, so I used stop-action mode with a very fast shutter designed for shooting people doing sports.
There were avenues and pastures as we drove out of town, and then the car climbed into scenery alot like Wordsworth's friendly hills of the pre-industrial world.
