House Opposite in full splendor

 Caught it on the 23rd. 

This is what it looks like from inside my yard-- in case you're wondering why I find it so striking. 

I know reflections are famously eye-catching. I read many stories as a kid (all of which featured someone with a name like Indian Jim) that had Jim flashing a heliograph to signal our boys as a plot point. 

"Why, it's Indian Jim! He has reached the hiding place--see that flash?"

"It's more than three leagues hence but it's as bright as the sun!"

(I may be mixing Cowboys and pirates there.) 

It's the fixed nature of the mirrors on the house that make it special, along with its timing - presaging the coming of spring. 

The House Opposite That Lights Up at Dawn to Presage The Coming of Spring

 The House Opposite That Lights Up at Dawn to Presage The Coming of Spring is back, baby!

The owner's renovations worked and the dawn glow is back in business this year.

This photo was taken two days ago. The brightest reflection would have been this morning but I overslept two days in a row. Dunno what this means about the prospect of spring.

I don't know yet if the owners/restorers have filled in the erosion on the slope below the house. It's been a rainy year thus far and the vegetation is a lot thicker than usual. The house looks great with its new black (instead of red) roof and new paint.

I'll try to get another shot of the spring glow tomorrow.

I talked about the renovations previously in October 2025 (when the house opposite lights up at dawn to presage the coming of winter), and about a pilgrimage to the house itself in 2020, when the poor thing was going into a bit of a slump.

The House Opposite That Lights Up At Dawn--good news!

Over the years I've posted many pictures of the House Opposite That Lights Up At Dawn to Presage the Coming of Spring (HOTLUAD).  Recently, things weren't looking so good for HOTLUAD. It was vacant, subject to vandalism and showing a lot of erosion in the hillside below the house. 

HOTLUAD glowed at the opposite end of the year as well, when the sun hit it at the same angle it did in March. So this week we had an opportunity to see how it was doing. 

Verdict: All's well with HOTLUAD!

Someone has been doing a lot of work on it in the last few months. I'm not sure if it's owned by the same people, but two or three lots above it are also being renovated, and a lot of overgrown trees removed. HOTLUAD itself first swapped its brick-red roof (the San Juan Capistrano city-approved color) for slate grey, and then various windows disappeared and reappeared several times (presumably being boarded up and then replaced). Although the famous dumper truck did not come back, workmen's trucks were frequently in evidence along with ladders and suchlike "improvement" technology. 

February 2018

October 2024

August 2025

In August this year, repairs started in earnest. You can see that air conditioning units are being moved in (or out) and all kinds of magic are happening with the all-important windows. 

And today, October 17th:

October 2025

Look at that glow!

Here's a zoom:

October 2025

You can also see how the trees have been trimmed or removed, to the right of HOTLUAD.

I have great hopes for it presaging spring in four months. 

Progress Report 2: HOTLUAD no longer glows at dawn to presage the coming of spring

Bad news. The sun came up this morning but the House Opposite That Lights Up At Dawn to presage the coming of spring didn't glow at dawn.

On closer inspection, the broken windows have been replaced with boards. When we visited the house in 2020, the boards were behind broken windows, so they still could reflect the light, but I guess that's changed, or the glass has fallen out.

I've added a photo from February 2020 that shows the contrast with today.

What this means for spring, I do not know. But I have a bad feeling about this.

House on the hill opposite, February 23, 2025 at dawn

House on the hill opposite, February 2018 at dawn

The House on the hill opposite That Lights Up At Dawn To Presage The Coming Of Spring: Progress Report 1

The House on the hill Opposite That Lights Up At Dawn To Presage The Coming Of Spring is, alas, invisible.

Maybe there won't be any more springs?

I didn't have much hope for HOTLUAD this year as all the windows appear to have been broken, but nature has drawn a literal and figurative veil over it. There are another couple of days when we *might* get a chance to observe the glow but :(

The House on the Hill Opposite, Dawn, February 22nd, 2025
 (house and hill not shown)

The House Opposite that lights up at dawn to presage the coming of spring...

The House Opposite that lights up at dawn to presage the coming of spring isn't looking too good right now. Its lesser-known manifestation, the House Opposite That Lights Up at Dawn in October put on a poor showing this year. 

The first couple of days of the phenomenon, it was misty. On the last day, a faint glimmer in the leftmost upper window appeared. On closer examination today, that's the only window remaining in the building. There's a tree growing in front of the window, too, which isn't helping. 

Gone are the blinding glints of yesteryear.

Two days ago, a faint glimmer, upper left.

Today, misty vista at dawn.

The House on the Hill Opposite is in Spooky Mode today

 Having given up lighting up at dawn, the house opposite was in full Halloween mode at dawn today. 

The House on the Hill Opposite

The House on the Hill Opposite That Lights Up at Dawn

 I normally feature The House on the Hill Opposite That Lights Up at Dawn during February, when it lights up at dawn to presage the coming of spring. 

Of course, it also lights up at dawn just before fall starts in earnest, in mid-October.  Many Ides of October are overcast here in So Cal and so the viewing isn't as good. It's been misty in the early morning for weeks, and just recently it rained for a solid day. (It started approximately an hour after I finished planting our mandatory drought-resistant plants, which replaced our lawn. Good luck with avoiding root rot, my little Kalanchoe friends!) 

But it cleared up on Monday, so today and yesterday were the days The House on the Hill Opposite That Lights Up at Dawn to presage the coming of Autumn. 

HOTLUAD

HOTLUAD

You can see from the telephoto shot that the debris around the house, the number of broken windows and the slope erosion are all getting worse. The upper floor is still poised to Light Up at Dawn, though and the last time we visited the property, it looked like the slab was in good condition.  May it continue to presage the autumn. (And spring.)

HOTLUAD Today

The House Opposite, redux

Forewarned, I was able to get the telephoto lens out this morning. Less of a display, but a clear demonstration that optical zoom is better than digital zoom, I think. 

The house that lights up at dawn to herald the coming of winter. Redux. 

For comparison, same lens, ordinary day. (This was taken in August this year.)

I imagine that neighbor above in the mini-mansion must be a little fed up with his downstairs neighbor's lack of landscaping. Or maybe he just can't see it for all his beautifully trimmed trees. 

Winter is coming (yes, even though this week has been one long "heat advisory" warning)

 The House On The Hill Opposite That Lights Up At Dawn To Signal The Coming Of Autumn has taken a battering over the last few years. Abandoned - at least, it's been empty for years and it's not on the record as for sale - its grass is dead, ejecta is accumulating around its foundations and its windows are getting broken and boarded up. 

There's still a couple of intact windows that face the sunrise just before spring and just after the advent of fall, however. Yesterday was the day. 

Winter is coming. 

The House Opposite may not light up at dawn to signal spring in future

A couple of times, I've posted here about The House Opposite and how it lights up at dawn in blaze in early March, signalling the start of spring.

The House Opposite is an even better indicator of warm weather than the buds on my tangelo tree. It didn't put on much of a display this year (unlike the tangelo tree) and so we trekked up the Hill Opposite to see what was happening.

Here's The House Opposite lighting up at dawn in March 2015, and what it looks like as the sun hits the stucco a little later.

The House Opposite at dawn, March 2015

The House Opposite, in early morning sun March 2015

Getting up there meant driving to the end of San Juan Capistrano's trail system and then walking beside Trabuco Creek. At one point, feeling adventurous, we scrambled down the bank and walked *in* Trabuco Creek. Verdict: it is very muddy. Scrambling back up the bank through a thicket of young trees, that stuff that is very like bamboo and old yarrow stalks was much harder and we decided we probably wouldn't do that again. 

Then back on the trail and up the hill.  The mustard plants are only about knee high at the moment but are already flowering and the thistles (another invasive plant) are beginning to show themselves.  The trail skirts a gated community with a few keep out signs, then leads up the hill beneath the House Opposite. 

The House Opposite from the trail, March 2020

Although the other houses on that street are gated, there is no gate on The House Opposite. It is, however, completely boarded up and has evidently been unoccupied for years, probably since the dump truck in the 2015 pictures finished whatever it was doing later that year.

Evidence suggests The House Opposite will not light up at dawn to signal the spring for much longer. The windows are being broken. There are some strong boards behind them, but there's nothing to stop vandals from getting at the glass.

It's not a particularly well-designed house. It looks a little hastily-put-together. The houses behind it are typical Southern California mini-mansions, with castle turrets, swimming pools, the lot. But there's no apparent reason for it to be abandoned. It isn't high on the ridgeline. It hasn't been tagged as unsafe.

As you can imagine, from the House Opposite's point of view, my house is the house opposite.  This is San Juan Capistrano from its foundation. You can see the Mission Basilica (the big white church) and the beige monolith of the new SDG&E eyesore (under the power lines) and Palm Tree Hill (the hill with the palms on it). My house is between those. Good luck finding it. 

SDG&E eyesore (under the powerlines, middle left), Palm Tree Hill

Mission Basilica, center

It's all very green, isn't it? It's been raining for weeks. It always rains approx. 48 hours after the doomsayers have pronounced it a 'very dry winter' with 'little snowpack'. Never fails. 

Hope you find new owners soon, or RIP, House Opposite. 

The House on the Hill Opposite

This week is the week the house on the hill opposite lights up at dawn.



This week, February 2018



Previously on the hill, February 2016

It doesn't change much. I still don't think it's occupied. The dumper truck was there for years, but it's gone now.  Today we just have some sort of beam propped up against the front. Palm trees on the top are better trimmed but the weed-whacking seems to have gotten out of hand. Whoever put up that orange construction fencing hasn't bothered to take it down yet.

But boy, does it glow at dawn.