leaves of three

On my sunset walk, the light shining through the poison oak leaves was gorgeous. Leaves of three, let them be!

I heard a mountain biker approaching from behind. He called out to me, “Good evening!” I stepped aside and turned as he passed. He repeated his heart felt “Thank you so much” twice. The encounter felt kind and respectful. I felt his care and his gratitude. In 16 years, I’ve never felt that way about a trail encounter with a mountain biker.

I saw that a small boat had washed up on Birthday Cake Island. A ship wreck maybe caused by the tide? I wondered how long it had been there. Will it be set free when the tide rises?

I visited my old friend oak tree still living and dying simultaneously. The fungi breaking down the branches as they fall into the bay, while new growth still flourishes on the other side. I am always amazed at the beauty in this long, slow break down I’ve been witnessing for years.

I thought deeply about letting go and moving on. About the time when the tide is out and you can get stuck in the mud. About the word I keep hearing on podcasts “enshitification.” A word can say so much.

Then I thought to check in with the trails, I notice the softness from the recent rain. The thirsty earth making such good use of the wetness.

I took time to witness all that is exposed at low tide. Everything having its moment in the setting sun. The reflection of the sky on the wet mud at the bottom of the bay. I wanted to run out and sink in to the muddy softness, but I didn’t actually want to get dirty.

This moment of green is glorious. This high hydration day before the critical mass of spring blossoms.

The tiny white flowers everywhere I looked, the first 6 poppies showing off. The cherry blossoms both before and after the rain.

I took in the scent of sunset. I touched my cold cheeks with my warm hands as I looked up and watched the first six stars appear in the evening sky.