Yesterday we went to Felton to ride the Roaring Camp and Big Trees steam train. We went last year, and our three year old grandchild was excited to go again, as were we. What a thrill to go high, high, high into the redwoods and back down to stroll among the trees in Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park.
Yesterday I was with family, both four-legged and two, at Muir Beach and on the coastal trail between Muir Beach and Tennessee Valley. Some of us walked further than others, and we all indulged in these words of Vincent Van Gogh.
Don’t just look at the spring, touch it, taste it. Get it inside you.
When my youngest started kindergarten, I trained to become a Terwilliger nature guide. My site was Ring Mountain, where I am now. This morning I stepped out and passed two houses to cross a stream and enter the sacred site.
This is Coast Miwok land. The Nature Conservancy bought it when the Tiburon Mariposa Lily was discovered to grow here and nowhere else. There is serpentine at the top surrounded by sandstone so flowers developed and then were caught as though planted to keep this land always open in honor of the native people and plants.
I couldn’t go far today because of the mud but I know there is a midden here and a hole in the rock where the Miwok people ground their acorns. It’s under a buckeye tree which loses its leaves in the winter and grows them back in the spring. Therefore sunlight is moderated, and it’s next to a stream, so acorns are leached so they can be pounded and eaten.
Salem Rice, an expert on Bay area geology, said that there were more different kinds of rocks on Ring Mt. than across half of the country. It’s a paradise of rocks and because there’s no pollution lichen grows luxuriously on the rocks.
In those days, I lead fifth and sixth graders on field trips on the mountain. I showed them how one could survive right here. Everything was provided. The bay provides clams, crabs, fish. Quail run free and can be caught in special traps. Boats can be built from the tule grasses if one wants to venture across the bay. Tule also provides housing, and soaproot provides soap. It’s a paradise and the road below is actually called Paradise.
With the children we also discussed the modern day. People need homes so how do we balance the natural landscape with that? The children understood. They are wise, like owls. Last night, I was entertained by the hooting of an owl.
At the top of the mountain are petroglyphs facing west. This is a sacred place. My photos only give a taste of a small part about 2/3rds up as I couldn’t walk very far along the trail with the mud, but more days come along with rain today.
Yesterday I was by the bay watching the tide go out changing the niches for the birds. Newly exposed mud offered new opportunities to feed. It was like a poem unfolding new places to feed what we already know.
My daughter-in-law’s mother passed away early Friday morning. She and her brother are dealing with the details and I am with how we meet death. How do we rearrange ourselves for this matter to energy exchange, this cloak of the personal opening to the universal?
Ramana Maharshi, was once asked, “How should we treat others?” He replied, “There are no others.”
I sink into knowing that.
Today I hear romping in the yard below. I look over the side of the deck, and seeing a deer, grab my phone, and trot downstairs – not just one deer – six. Six – a gift shared.
The quieter you become, the more you can hear.
Ram Dass
It occurs to me now that the word “streaming” has a different meaning than it once did, but I return to the original meaning of sitting by a stream, and listening, and being moved by rhythm and sounds.
As Carl Perkins said, If it weren’t for the rocks in its bed, the stream would have no song, and sitting, sauntering, and exploring yesterday, I heard a multitude of songs. The wind sang, too, and the falling leaves, each one twirling like a butterfly in a slow and languid descent.
I took Obi Kaufman’s advice and drove four miles to Cascade Canyon and walked up to Cascade Falls. A picture can’t capture Mother Earth’s flow but perhaps some of the photos capture the light on the stream. I can’t share the smells of autumn oaks and bays but again imagine an inhalation so deep, there is no beginning and end, only connection that circles a whole.
There are also Three Wells where I used to take my children to dip and swim in summer. All is quiet now, this harvest time of year.
Life is the art of drawing without an eraser. – John W. Gardner
I wake to the sound of jays, not roosters, announcing the day. Last night the moon was a blaze, and she will get brighter and brighter until the Harvest Moon on Friday the 13th.
Yesterday I saw Obi Kaufman speak. It was like being in the presence of a young John Muir. If he doesn’t walk/hike 100 miles a week, specifically in CA backcountry, he gets depressed. He arrived outfitted in hat, jeans, and hiking boots.
I love his book The California Field Atlas. His latest is The State of Water. It’s smaller, more focused, and more accessible to all ages, specifically the youngsters we need to reach. His plan is to write a book on each of the elements, says we humans are fire, and yes, we know the positives and negatives of fire.
He says we should call it “climate breakdown” as there’s always been change but this is a breakdown. On the other hand, it’s not to panic, but to work with ourselves first, to bring ourselves to unity and peace. We are being divided by those who benefit financially from division and fear. Before we can address the environmental issues of the day, we need to address ourselves, as we too, are the natural world.
Therefore, find a stream, take your shoes off, and dip in to quiet, to the sounds and songs of birds, water, and trees.
The following is from his article “How to Get the Most Of Your Time Outside” from Sunset Magazine’s article WILD GIFTS.
First, get out of your car. “The more you look, the more there is. Nature is magic like that.”
Second, read a book. “Books are trails that uncover the nature of thought itself.” He lists authors to read.
Third, watch for patterns. “Widen the lens, investigate larger trends in the ecology around you.”
Fourth, join a Land Trust. Volunteer on a piece of land that matters to you.
The fifth comes first though. Don’t panic and add fear to the already frenetic energy of the world. Several times a day, rest in nature, your own nature, shoes off, breathing deeply. Recognize and honor that we ourselves are the natural world.
His website is here: https://coyoteandthunder.com
My mantra lately is this haiku by Issa. It allows me to slow, receive, and taste, each moment divided into petals even as it’s held in a bouquet.
This morning I rose, received the touch of feet meeting floor. When I slipped off my nightie, then allowed a blouse to flow over my head, shoulders, and arms, I was showered with bliss, and now I wear a magisterial cape. I am a law unto myself. I know how to live and integrate. I float, carried, a cricket, singing.
On a branch
floating downriver
a cricket, singing
Kobayashi Issa
In the Northern hemisphere, it’s the first day of spring, one welcomed by a “super worm equinox moon”. I sat outside last night and watched as the earth’s turning allowed me to see the full moon rise. I felt how clearly love can’t be confined to likes and dislikes. It’s to embrace, embraced, this world we share, even when so much appears unfathomable. We’re here to open our view and expand with generosity our response.
My neighbor Jeanine Aguerre opened her eyes, ears, and sensitivity this morning when she walked out her door and heard shrieks coming from a pine tree. Interpreting the sounds as a love song, she grabbed her camera and took these photos of two hawks.
I’m inspired to celebrate spring by allowing my dreams to come together and build a nest, hatch, feed, and wing!
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