This last January, inspiration struck again. I grabbed a packet of cilantro seed — bolt-resistant, no less. Then a heat wave hit in mid-March, and we headed to the beach. If only the cilantro was so lucky.

My friends Steve and Scott and I paddled out at Seal Beach Jetty, the water oddly warm from the nearby Edison plant discharge. The waves looked promising — long, slow-peeling, and consistent. Somehow I knew in that moment that I'd be chasing this feeling forever. That was thirty years ago.

I'd see some commercial with a hapless dad seeking guidance in Home Depot for his crabgrass problem, and it would make my blood boil. No way was I going to turn into that guy.

After all the lemonade, lemon cakes, lemon dressings, and bags given away to neighbors, the question remained: what do I do with all these lemons? The answer, it turns out, is salt and time.

Matilija poppies, wild mustard, Bermuda buttercup. It's the season of yellow, and Spring is pulling everyone outside.

A Saturday morning at the Torrance Farmers Market. Ken's Top Notch Produce, a pupusa in the sunshine, and a Golden Nugget mandarin that cracked right open.