This morning I woke to the sound of rain. Yesterday a friend and I walked back and forth to Tennessee Valley Beach. Though the weather was iffy, we felt the call, and then the colors in the gray were another call, another stroke of the gift of life in water, earth, air, and stone.
I’m re-reading Gretel Ehrlich’s book, The Solace of Open Spaces. She writes of the dances of Native people, the gatherings, the connection with sun, rain, earth, our breath, our steps.
Thursday evening, my grandson and I were at Filoli Gardens visiting Rose Wonders, the troll created from nature by Thomas Dambo. It was quiet, just us.
Haruki Murakami:
Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.
I’m reminiscing on my six year old grandson’s attention to detail at his nature camp. He had been nervous as he was going to a camp where he didn’t know anyone. I know the feeling but then we saw deer as we drove in, male and female deer, and that was the beginning to an inclusive letting down.
The children were directed to a picnic table where “tree cookies” were laid out, rounds of tree trunk, and there were bins of colored pens so each child could make their own nametag. He carefully wrote his name on his tree circle, and I thought that was it. I handed him a green string to put through the hole of the tag, but he wasn’t finished. He then outlined the three letters in another color, and then, another and meanwhile I’m thinking he’s done, and we’re moving along, but then he carefully colored the whole round in, and I thought of how I might have done it. I might have just written the letters – no elaboration or gift of time and flow. He put the string through and tied it himself in a double knot though other children went to the counselor to have it done.
I’m still with the experience as I come to Ellen Glasgow’s words: “Though it sounds absurd, it is true to say I felt younger at sixty than I had felt at twenty.”
I may not have the energy or agility of the age of twenty, but there’s such a beautiful continuing way of learning. My grandson is my teacher. I’m older than sixty, and yet here I am expanding my age rings that may one day be cut into cookies, in which children write their names.
When I picked him up from camp, the nametag was turned around, with the word “LEF” on it. They had played a game where he became a leaf. I wondered if it was worth mentioning that “when two vowels go walking, the first one does the talking”, but then, I realized it doesn’t matter. He was thrilled to be a leaf, a nurturer. He shared that other children were a slug, or a bug, but as a leaf he provides food and beauty. We were careful on the way home to not step on any leaves, an almost impossible task where they live, and yet, my heart is tender in reflection, in caring for the ground on which we walk, and what’s underneath.
As I gather age rings like the trunk of a tree, I feel myself expanding into widening rings of youth. I branch and leaf. I’m free. And the children’s song from Marlo Thomas and Friends comes to me: Free to Be …. You and Me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCUGMMEF2Zk
Years ago, my family took a tour at Abbot’s Lagoon with Megan Isadore, who co-founded the River Otter Ecology Project, to learn about and see the river otters that live and thrive there. This time of year you can see the new babies. Today there’s an article on a new behavior. The otters are augmenting their diet with pelicans. Researchers are wondering how the pelican’s capture and eating behavior spread from Rodeo Lagoon in the Marin Headlands to Abbott’s Lagoon in Point Reyes, a distance of fifty miles.
I’m reminded of Sutro Sam. In late 2012 and early 2013, Sutro Sam showed up in a protected freshwater-fed pool within the ruins of Sutro Baths in San Francisco. River otters hadn’t been seen in San Francisco in decades but there was Sutro Sam frolicing in glee because the ruins were stocked with large pet goldfish released by locals. Because he had a tracker, they knew he swam across the bay from Marin.
Recently I learned of mice who were caught in Nicasio and released near a Mill Valley creek. They found their way back to Nicasio. The proof was on their tails that had been spray-painted pink.
When I read the article, I thought perhaps the information had spread through some special otter news network, but remembering Sutro Sam, I thought of Louis and Clark, and adventurers like George Mallory who wanted to climb Mount Everest “because it is there”. Sir Edmund Hillary said, “It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves”. Otters, like humans, are curious animals, and they’re showing us they, too, like to explore.
Or maybe it is a certain individual, like Jonathan Livingston Seagull, or one who links to the Australian Aboriginal rite of passage where a young one goes out alone on a Walkabout, a spiritual journey to become an adult.
Here’s the article: https://www.sfgate.com/local/article/otters-pelicans-point-reyes-22361117.php
This morning I noticed the darkness at 5:15. Yes, the fog is in but still there’s that sense of the tilt toward fall. I’m with the plants and creatures that survive at low tide, and then, again in the high tide, the covering, renewing, feeding, fertilizing.
Today I was again at Rodeo Beach. I was surprised to see a hole in a rock I’ve taken zillions of pictures of but today the light and the closeness to it with the low tide allowed me to see right through it. I often see it as different animals, and today again invited imagining like looking at clouds.
My teacher of Sensory Awareness would say “A moment is a moment.” This morning I woke up to those words. There’s something about going through old photos that makes that so clear. All those moments.
I spent time yesterday in the garden after seeing photos of each reincarnation. It’s filled in beautifully, a gift.
I came across this photo from a neighbor’s garden, a paradise of flowers and birds. May we each have access to the garden within and this garden we share, and may we cultivate what matters to us now, and now, and now.
I was thrilled when I saw a Great Blue Heron at Abbott’s Lagoon. Then I saw the Great White Egret next to it. I approached closer and closer, and still they were quietly enjoying the view, and then, at times, busy grooming. Even birds, get ready for the day. They weren’t bothered as I circled round them, entranced with their ability to cleanse, appreciate, and savor what we all share, the gift of life!
Yesterday I drove out to Abbott’s Lagoon in Point Reyes. It was early, sunny, and warm. I was alone. I’ll show pictures of my walk, and then, in the next post zero in on more photos of a Great Blue Heron and Great White Egret grooming with a view. I also saw across the lagoon what I knew must be otters since they hang out there, and slide down the dunes, and also groom. This was a huge lump that stayed still, and was gone when I returned. I came home and zoomed in on the lump. Otters huddle together in what’s called a “romp”. For sure, two otters, but I think there’s also two babies. It’s that time of year. Quite a day. I’ll try to give a taste with photos.
Desmond Tutu:
When we see others as the enemy, we risk becoming what we hate. When we oppress others, we end up oppressing ourselves. All of our humanity is dependent upon recognizing the humanity in others.
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