Hiking at Dusk

The boy and I got to enjoy some of the exquisite wonders of dusk hiking over the Labor Day weekend. Twice we ventured out a little before sunset and returned well after dark. The last rays of the sun shining on Mt. Diablo looked absolutely heavenly, and the tranformations of the woods around us in the later stages of the deepening gloom seemed ever new. On one of the nights we had left without a flashlight, and twice I had suggested that we turn back, but Gumbo kept pushing to go further, so on we went. Then we came to a section of dense oak trees that made the vanishing light all the more apparent. There, a particular tree caught the boy's eye, "Whoa, that's weird, look at that!" he exclaimed, referring to two trees growing out of one stump. "That's not right" he continued. We checked it out together for a minute, and I assured him that the treee was not so unusual, but did not manage to fully convince him. He responded with "I think it's best we head back now". Coming back in the dark, the last orangeness fading into the bay, the thistles were more difficult to avoid, so we each got spined majorly. Since then he always calls it "the Prickly Woods", a name that seems to be sticking. Sweet times up on that wild hill, so glad we live so close to nature.