42nd Ave under San Leandro St and the 880 freeway. I was lucky one morning and the stopped traffic was just right to snag a photo. Cleaned over now. We miss FROG. The guy’s pretty neat too.
I’m seeing GERMS tagging the BART pillars along San Leandro St, just the other side of High. But which germs?! Should I pull out my mask? (it’s a professional hazard, and a dose of contrary literal mind)
I walked down the Redtail Trail until it met up with the Grass Valley Trail.
A few weeks ago, I drove along Redwood Road until I found a likely trailhead at the Marciel Gate.
A few weeks ago, the Kid and I grabbed a chance to go to Yosemite for a weekend trip. The afternoon we arrived, we drove over to Mono Lake and hiked from a trailhead by Black Point. No marked trail. We got to bushwhack (and the bushes whacked back).
We had a goal. One of our friends remembered finding fissures up here on her last visit. We found them again, and the adventure of looking for something, no trail, made for a very happy Kid. The Kid and friend were buzzed by a snow owl (“in summer!” said the Kid in amazement) cruising over them in a different fissure.
We ran down the black sand side of Black Point, switchbacking all the way. Looking back:
“Better than LegoLand!” said the Kid.
(We were sorely disappointed the next day. The Kid was sick, so he and I stayed in the cabin all day before driving back home.)
Wednesday I took myself for a walk up in the East Bay Regional Parks in the Oakland Hills.
I saw weaving.
I saw seed heads lighter than down.
I walked through fog, and sun through fog, and sun.
I picked the Kid up from school (yup, already) and dragged him to Alameda Beach. Poor Kid. Heh.
I’m on vacation at home this week. I like it.