Happy New Year!

Oliver convinced Miriam, me, and himself to swim in Tomales Bay this morning. Swim is an overstatement. We thrashed about like fish caught on a line (only we were trying to get out and the fish would be trying to jump in). But hair was wet. Skin was submerged. Feet on rocks were numb. It was a faintly familiar, missed rush of life force... with only a few hours of sleep and blurred vision, the water was what I imagine defibrillation is like (only nice). Afterwards, Oliver suggested naked yoga. I opted for a hot shower. 

It was drizzling in Marshall when we left. The dampness only makes the scenery that much more beautiful. The green of the grass vibrates with color saturation. I am thinking a lot about landscapes lately while writing about my time hitchhiking and working in Alaska (book project). The unending bigness of Alaska and its purple fireweed-lined dirt roads awed me and made me sad. But with life and death being more pronounced in their meaning now, I am far less affected by scenery. What does that mean? 

I drove alone back to Berkeley. I passed a slow Prius. And a cop standing in the rain holding up his radar gun. And as I was wondering if the cop was trying to fool everyone by being less visible or just enjoying the beauty that hugged him from every side, I looked at what he might be seeing. Moss colored green vegetation grew in young, delicate but confident lines at the edge of a mirror-still lake. Heather gray trees and light maroon bark. Green hills and a perfect reflection of it all despite the rain. The second rush of the day. I felt the outside beauty again and was once more revived.

Comments

[George Shuput]

The water in Tomales Bay always seems cold! On January 1st it must have been freezing, ok not freezing but really cold.