In the hills of Encinitas, the next town south of us. The scrub is scrubbier than ever, just a tangle of grayish brittle dryness. I took photos of several types of — foliage? — it doesn’t seem like foliage when it’s not green. The various forms are just as noticeable yet seem forlorn. May we have some rain this winter, please? I would be delighted to get out my turquoise-on-black polka-dot boots!