the day off.
This morning was a ‘rest day’ for Beasil. She didn’t need it, I did. So Barb & I planned a nice morning walk together.
Well, planned is not really the right word. We just decided to do it. Retirement is not a thing to be wasted, and there are so few constraints upon our spontaneity, so off we went.
As we were driving out to the ‘high rent district’ -- where the best sidewalks and suburban vistas are paid for and maintained by the residents’ monthly homeowners association dues, thank you very much -- I mentioned that maybe we could trek out to the area where Beasil & I went tracking last week.
Brilliant!
The early morning sun had no clouds to chase away, so it spent all of it’s energy just illuminating the beauty of nature. If early February seems too early for Spring, someone forgot to tell Mother Nature. The recent rains & moderate temperatures have painted the hills many shades of green and the birds everywhere were talking about it.
As we walked to the end of the access road and started down the beginning of the trail, we stopped to read the sign which reminded us that the other side of the was reserved as a wildlife preserve. Hearing a noise we looked up and stood in silence as three deer walked up the hillside and disappeared into the trees. They seemed to be enjoying the morning, too.
Our path took us through a different section of trees, down a small hill and meandered along until we came to an area where the foliage thinned out. We were in a small valley with open space ahead and on both sides, rising to disappear in the tree line. It was like we had traveled to another land, or another time. We imagined that this area had changed very little since the first Europeans passed through here hundreds of years ago. So strange to be enjoying this wilderness, so close to the huge, recent development only a mile away. So wonderful to be walking through time, placing footsteps on the ground shared with coyotes whose ancestors have lived here for centuries.
As we returned to the trail head I thought of the events of human history -- imagining that someone might plant the flag of a country or religion, claiming that the land now belonged to certain humans more than others. And preparing to kill anyone who dared challenge that claim.
The coyotes know differently. The land belongs to all creatures, if they can survive folly of a few.
Beasil greeted us when we returned home and seemed to appreciate the stars in our eyes.
Beasil is taking
Friday, February 8, 2008
