Feeling the shift in light, I put out pumpkins and change candles to yellow and orange.  I breathe more deeply, receive the fresh stirrings in the air activating and energizing the moments remaining to me. I read that people my age are happy because they recognize the gift of each breath, the air moving in and out.

Yesterday I walked to and from Tennessee Valley Beach.  Photos speak in the mist.  

Rock outcrops view the sea
The Pacific beckons
A dam holds the creek to make a pond
A face in the rock
Low tide reveals wreckage from the steamship Tennessee landed here in 1853
Daisies, poison oak, and horsetails twine the ages
The mist pours in
Bridging the autumn dry creek
The path beckons
Fulfilled
Miwok Stables

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