The summer rains have made the gardens riotous with native perennial and annual flowers carefully tended by a couple of guys who really know what works well in this high altitude-variable weather planting zone.
The gardens lay within the adobe and flagstone walled ruins of an 1850's grist mill and mercantile building where the tack and blacksmith shops once stood.
Benches are positioned here and there, making it a good place to just hang out and commune with nature.
Since it's raspberry picking season, the ranch's U Pick It fields were full of people enjoying a Sunday outside doing honest farm labor. Kids and dogs are welcome, and everyone was having a fine old time. After an hour of picking, M and I had four pounds of organic, local raspberries at the peak of ripeness.
I probably ate a pound while I was picking, but thank goodness the guy who assigned us our rows didn't really weigh us before and then after we were done, like he had threatened.
Here's our haul. The photo is significant: a meta moment, if you will.
Some of the raspberries were gobbled as soon as they got home, others were flash frozen and placed in freezer bags, and we made a cornmeal raspberry cake from the rest. More about that cake later.