Mori Point is another open space landmark along the San Francisco coast that Tucker and I have already trod. Although I am always trying to find new places to explore, as I’ve come to learn, one can go to the same place over and over, but if you take a new way there each time, then it’s a whole new experience.
So rather than park and walk up the direct steep incline to the Point and meander along the meadows and cliffsides, we parked within a neighborhood north of the Point and took a shaded path along backyard fences that spit out onto the boardwalk along Sharp Park, the northern border of Mori Point lands.
So rather than park and walk up the direct steep incline to the Point and meander along the meadows and cliffsides, we parked within a neighborhood north of the Point and took a shaded path along backyard fences that spit out onto the boardwalk along Sharp Park, the northern border of Mori Point lands.
I wanted to go up the hill to the cliffsides, but Tucker wanted to explore the new place first, so we hung a right and walked along the busy boardwalk of people and dogs.
To our east was the sensitive habitat where the rains still puddled and birds and wildlife were safely congregating.
To our west was, of course, the ocean.
We walked a half a mile toward toward civilization and then turned around before it we were reached streets, houses, and parking lots.
We stopped at our entry point to the boardwalk and I gazed south, realizing that trees were always the gateways to lands of magic.
It was a steep climb, but well worth every step for this smile.
While sitting there, a woman came up to ask if she could share the bench, I said of course and Tucker immediately took to her as if they were long last friends. He hopped up next to her to give her kisses, and she giggled in response. Tucker loves most all people, but there was something about her.
We had just had a confrontation on the boardwalk with a person who didn’t grasp the dangers of having an off-leash puppy that didn’t respond to voice control, and I was trying to shake off the negativity. As she spoke and laughed and told me about her own dog and I watched Tucker love her, I came to the conclusion that I had been sent an angel. That’s not to say she was an entity from heaven, but that the universe sent me just what I needed to rebounded. Messengers come in all forms-people, views, interactions, animals… But I use the word angel because when recounting this tale to friends, two of them stated exactly the same thing: “Aww, you were sent an angel.”
The woman who sat next to us said her name was Jennifer. I told her mine was Stephanie. With no other prompting, she told me that whenever someone couldn’t remember her name, they alway guessed Stephanie. I told her that ever since I was a child, when people couldn’t remember my name, they guessed Jennifer—even over the phone. I’ve known a lot of Jennifers, and she’s the first one to say this.
Before I could decode the coincidence into a message, Jennifer’s husband came up to us and gave Tucker a treat. Tucker got more love and after brief introductions among us, Jennifer left to continue on her hiking journey with her husband and friend.
I sat a moment, in reverence of what the universe provides when we need it most. I could have rebounded from the conflict by sitting still and looking out over the water, but the guest star character of this angel just made it all the faster. And reminded me that there is more goodness in the world than ill. Tucker clearly recognized her from the other side, as dogs have that ability to cross between the worlds.
I thanked the universe for this gift, took a deep breath of ocean air, and we continued on our journey across the bluff.
We had just had a confrontation on the boardwalk with a person who didn’t grasp the dangers of having an off-leash puppy that didn’t respond to voice control, and I was trying to shake off the negativity. As she spoke and laughed and told me about her own dog and I watched Tucker love her, I came to the conclusion that I had been sent an angel. That’s not to say she was an entity from heaven, but that the universe sent me just what I needed to rebounded. Messengers come in all forms-people, views, interactions, animals… But I use the word angel because when recounting this tale to friends, two of them stated exactly the same thing: “Aww, you were sent an angel.”
The woman who sat next to us said her name was Jennifer. I told her mine was Stephanie. With no other prompting, she told me that whenever someone couldn’t remember her name, they alway guessed Stephanie. I told her that ever since I was a child, when people couldn’t remember my name, they guessed Jennifer—even over the phone. I’ve known a lot of Jennifers, and she’s the first one to say this.
Before I could decode the coincidence into a message, Jennifer’s husband came up to us and gave Tucker a treat. Tucker got more love and after brief introductions among us, Jennifer left to continue on her hiking journey with her husband and friend.
I sat a moment, in reverence of what the universe provides when we need it most. I could have rebounded from the conflict by sitting still and looking out over the water, but the guest star character of this angel just made it all the faster. And reminded me that there is more goodness in the world than ill. Tucker clearly recognized her from the other side, as dogs have that ability to cross between the worlds.
I thanked the universe for this gift, took a deep breath of ocean air, and we continued on our journey across the bluff.
We had to stop while I attempted a few photos to line up with Harold & Maude’s ending sequence. I never can get it right, and there’s a clear difference in tide level between now and fifty years ago.
But regardless of framing, it’s beautiful.
We carried on even higher up and looked out over the ocean, There, in the distance, I spied a land mass. I checked my maps, and could not find a little dot naming it, no matter how far I zoomed in. I had never seen it before, and we had traversed much of the coastline in this area. Why was it suddenly visible?
It disappeared from my view a few times, and I tried to catch it, but found it difficult. I wondered if it was a mirage. I didn’t think climate change could effect he sea level quite so quickly. With all the rains, the sea should be higher, not lower.
An older gentleman had been behind us after we left our seat at Mori Point, and while Tucker and I are slow walkers, he was even slower. We were all just taking out time to enjoy the journey.
However, when we reached our second peak, he caught up with us. We both questioned another traveller’s choice to sit on the cliff’s edge. We knew well enough that the edge can break off easily—especially after hard rains.
The man told me he had lived here his entire life. I asked him what that island was out there, and he answered without a second of doubt: “Those are the Fallones islands.”
Huh. Definite lapse of knowledge on my part, as well as for Apple Maps and AllTrails. So odd. I wondered why it only revealed itself to me now, and was perplexed about how I could lose its vision so easily, as if it had hidden itself behind the Mists of Avalon.
I thanked him, and then Tucker and I headed inland across the hillside to get back to our trusty steed. We crossed trails we had walked before, but every view was unique to this experience.
An older gentleman had been behind us after we left our seat at Mori Point, and while Tucker and I are slow walkers, he was even slower. We were all just taking out time to enjoy the journey.
However, when we reached our second peak, he caught up with us. We both questioned another traveller’s choice to sit on the cliff’s edge. We knew well enough that the edge can break off easily—especially after hard rains.
The man told me he had lived here his entire life. I asked him what that island was out there, and he answered without a second of doubt: “Those are the Fallones islands.”
Huh. Definite lapse of knowledge on my part, as well as for Apple Maps and AllTrails. So odd. I wondered why it only revealed itself to me now, and was perplexed about how I could lose its vision so easily, as if it had hidden itself behind the Mists of Avalon.
I thanked him, and then Tucker and I headed inland across the hillside to get back to our trusty steed. We crossed trails we had walked before, but every view was unique to this experience.
Tucker was delighted by it all. And I felt a renewed connection to the universe. I looked up the Fallones Island and discovered that the native tribes of the Bay area called this Island of the Dead. They never travelled there, as it was home to those who had ceased living. Perhaps its disappearing and appearing acts contributed to this belief. Perhaps seeing it was an omen—of troubled times to come, or of visiting ancestors.
The universe is magical. The confrontation, the angel, the names, the man who knew the island, the island hidden beyond the veil… we’re all connected. We just need to be open to the connection to feel it and to experience it. Perhaps it’s he same with the islands, this cluster of uninhabited land masses (uninhabited except for the enormous population of wildlife and a few scientists), is only seen when you’re meant to see it. Even the first white invaders did not mention seeing this island. The Island of the Dead was as protected as Avalon.
Every time we go for a walk, the journey is magic. We do nothing extraordinary; just place our feet on the earth and walk in the art gallery Nature has created. And we are never disappointed by the view we get. But when you open your heart and mind as well as your eyes, you’ll find that the journey is even more extraordinary than you could ever imagine.
The universe is magical. The confrontation, the angel, the names, the man who knew the island, the island hidden beyond the veil… we’re all connected. We just need to be open to the connection to feel it and to experience it. Perhaps it’s he same with the islands, this cluster of uninhabited land masses (uninhabited except for the enormous population of wildlife and a few scientists), is only seen when you’re meant to see it. Even the first white invaders did not mention seeing this island. The Island of the Dead was as protected as Avalon.
Every time we go for a walk, the journey is magic. We do nothing extraordinary; just place our feet on the earth and walk in the art gallery Nature has created. And we are never disappointed by the view we get. But when you open your heart and mind as well as your eyes, you’ll find that the journey is even more extraordinary than you could ever imagine.
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