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!