This morning I took the most amazing early morning walk up the canyon above our house, in a cool ocean fog. The Irish would call it "a soft morning." A neighbor down the road told me that he watched a mountain lion kill one of his geese just last week. A judge, he is not prone to exageration. That spelled the end of walks in that direction for a dog named Butter. But it is so beautiful up there. Giant redwood groves, many 200-year old oaks, a creek and numerous waterfalls, giant fern grottos, a natural geothermal sulphur springs, and sometimes an ocean-scented breeze at the top of the hill. The fingers of fog crawl over the mountain range and nestle into the canyons, providing us with some cooler temperatures. A good thing, since these 90+ ones make me feel very cross. We also have a doe with twin fawns in the vineyard most evenings and a mother fox has a den of babies under another neighbor's deck. She races across our front yard with a rodent or gopher, bothering no one. Who needs Discovery Channel?
