Every once in a while Tyler needs to visit just a few of his customers on a holiday, and when that happens, I sometimes go with him. Yesterday was such a day. He was headed to San Francisco and I decided to go with him. It was windy, chilly, and grey, but as the sun became known, I grew more comfortable. Our first stop was to a small corner store that I find fascinating. The small store is packed with many items, including some nice produce and gourmet items. I enjoy watching the people and seeing what they choose to buy. A loaf of good bread. A head of lettuce. A good can of beer. Shaving cream. That small store does seem to serve the neighborhood well, including the dogs who love to come visit and get a treat.
We then went on to the Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. Parking was not easy to come by, but Tyler said he did not mind parking further away for this was one of his favorite walks. We parked, and walked through the Aids Memorial Grove. In contrast to much of the park, it was almost silent, and only a few people walked along the well maintained path through redwoods and many California native plants. We could not help but stop and ponder the flowers blooming.
We then entered through the business entrance of the academy. It was abuzz with children who seemed to believe they had finally been forever set free, and their young parents who had the monumental task of trying to keep them in some kind of order. Tyler concluded his business conversation and we did not linger long, but on our way out, we did see Claude the albino alligator, who is now 24 years old. He floated in the moat, silent and still, with his limbs suspended in the water as if he was on vacation. A large turtle rested on a nearby rock. Although we were standing on the level about the moat where the noise seemed to grow with a life of its own, those two seemed quite unconcerned. I had a sense they had lost interest in such comings and goings quite some time ago.
When we returned to the car, Tyler needed to make a phone call. I sat and continued to read The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin, first published in 1969. I think this is my first time to read one of her books. At first I was completely confused. She dropped me onto a strange planet with no warning. (I guess one should expect that when reading science fiction. I think I am out of practice with the genre.) However, I am settling in. Even the protagonist seems to be somewhat settling in. Yet, this planet that he knows as Winter does not seem to be particularly cozy, and he is continually baffled by a society populated by ones who have no fixed sex. In addition, even the weather changes often. Snow is not uncommon.
Tyler's conversation continued, so I decided to step out of the car and take off my jacket. While the car was warm, it was still windy outside, so I did not feel like lingering, even though the sun was shining. As I was preparing to step back into the car, a young couple walked by pushing a stroller that carried a very young child. She was happily munching on a snack that she held in her two small hands, reminding me of a charming little otter. She noticed me, and gave me the most miraculous smile I have received in quite some time. She was absolute light. Even though I still had the car door open, and Tyler was still on the phone, I gasped out loud and said in amazement, "What a beautiful smile!" The parents also smiled, and nodded their heads. I was humbled for I knew I was witnessing love. I smiled in return, but probably a bow would have been in order had I not been halfway into the car.
Our day in the city concluded with a beautiful lunch in a small French bistro. It was a perfect day for a rich French onion soup. Tyler enjoyed a bowl of mussels. We were content. Perhaps this is the contentment of Claude and his turtle companion, and maybe even of a young child whose journey is just beginning. Sometimes, you really do not have to travel far to find something that can deeply sustain you. I am grateful to know love is still guiding us through our own confusing and changing world.
I know this post is longish, but I really must include this lovely poem written by James Wright that I received through First Sip. It speaks deeply of a Spirit of Place. We need these reminders to look around in gratitude and take in the grace.
A Blessing
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
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image: Petaluma, 2024
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