Tuesday, March 30, 2010
SO excited to live this good life
Yesterday I sailed for the 1st time. We left the Richmond Marina late morning and returned at sunset, gorgeous, giving, feeling, beyond previous experiences. The folks were friendsome and I was on point, maybe a little jacked up with the thrill of the saltwater and blue sky. Stopped at San Francisco Aquatic Park for lunch, realized a 10-year old dream of swimming there, delightful, delightful, cold, and salty. Dominique and Chris swam too, and we felt quite fab about it.
Just got home from the wildest full moon hike yet, and I have been leading them for years. Just one taker and I drove to the back entrance to Kennedy Grove Park in the blooming storm of the decade, disappeared into the shadows beneath the old trees, smelled the bay trees smelling bayish, brought the moss & ferns inside us, marveled at them, then turned ourselves inside out, the better to know the lonesome hill entire. Ineffable, ineffable, but still I feel the urge to try to describe this blessing based in mud and the windy woods at night.
A woodpecker, sounded like a big old flicker to me, tapped on a tree to let us know we had left El Sobrante proper and entered into a realm most humans will never know. The storm blew in hard, whipping the trees, tearing through the forest like a herd of elephant spirits, leaving branches akimbo. Abandoned the Black Oak Grove trail in favor of the more sheltered Upper Sea Foam trail, which led us to the Lake View Lookout, where the wind promptly blew my hat off and threatened to crush my taker's umbrella, but we endured, nay, even dove off the west side of the slope into the fierce cold wind, down Lower Seafoam trail. She pointed out cracks in the soil indicating major earth movement; I raised my eyebrows while feeling for the creep of the hill, got a little giddy, passed by the dripping bench. It got steep, the storm blowing in arrived in force, dropped giant drops on the steep trail in quantity, traction got low, my hat became porous, navigation got tricky. With the miracle of Goddess we made it down without falling, stopping every now and then just to listen to the sounds of the storm whipped woods at night. Words cannot describe, but these tears of gratitude must mean something. I feel good, blessed, like I have stepped into the light after a month in the dark, those foggy trail visions will circle my mind until the electricity fades from my eyes.
These two wonderful trips, in addition to the 11 bands, party at the gym, day hike, and birthday lunch more or less top off my birthday celebrating month, and yes, I have no shame, might even see Hank III tonight...
BE HERE NOW