Monday morning was overcast, so Tyler and I decided to go for a hike in Tilden Park on the Berkeley/Orinda border. Our hope was that because of the weather, fewer people might be on the trails, and we were right. Yet, we were surprised by the density of the fog. At times the trees dripped precipitation on the trail. In those moments, we knew no season.
Lord, I will learn also to kneel down
into the world of the invisible,
the inscrutable and the everlasting.
Then I will move no more than the leaves of a tree
on a day of no wind,
bathed in light,
like the wanderer who has come home at last
and kneels in peace, done with all unnecessary things;
every motion, even words.
Mary Oliver, from "Coming to God: First Days"
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