Milagra Overlook: the name sounded familiar to me. And the photo of the singular tree overlooking the ocean was one I knew I had been to before. It’s astounding to me that I have cataloged so many different locations within my mind and that I carry with me a remembrance of certain trees I have met along the way. And yet at the same time, I often walk into a room and completely forget why I’m there. Such is the beauty of the human mind.
Even with the familiarities of location and name, looking at the trail path, I knew we had never journeyed that particular way to get to this tree. The trailhead of this venture was at the end of a cul de sac of a neighborhood, and I recalled our original journey to the overlook began behind a nursery. And so, because it’s the journey and the not the destination that matter most, away we went, over the Bay Bridge and across the city to the mountains overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Upon arrival, the grassy knoll confirmed that our feet had never tread tis particular piece of earth.
Even with the familiarities of location and name, looking at the trail path, I knew we had never journeyed that particular way to get to this tree. The trailhead of this venture was at the end of a cul de sac of a neighborhood, and I recalled our original journey to the overlook began behind a nursery. And so, because it’s the journey and the not the destination that matter most, away we went, over the Bay Bridge and across the city to the mountains overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Upon arrival, the grassy knoll confirmed that our feet had never tread tis particular piece of earth.
The way up was indeed a unique trek for us. Beginning in a small grassy area, the dirt path went up through a small knoll between a few towering trees and then opened back up to another knoll. Tree cover to knoll and back again we rose in elevation until we took a break from walking to espy our first wide vista.
There was a bit more neighborhood than I like to see when I hike, but any time I gaze upon where land meets sea and sea meets sky, my heart is filled with joy.
The gravel path led up further up on the hillside overlooking the ocean. The map (and a few signs along the way) pointed out the various bunkers, cannons, and artilleries hidden within the landscape. I wondered if this entire hill was forest and humans mowed it down to fill the hills with their concrete defenses or if the mounds and knolls existed long before people walked here.
…And long before people installed stairs.
…And long before people installed stairs.
Why are there always stairs???
Honestly, with few exceptions, I always end up taking the side on Nature’s path rather than onward and upward on flat platforms.
Honestly, with few exceptions, I always end up taking the side on Nature’s path rather than onward and upward on flat platforms.
The payoff was another concrete pad planted by humans for defense.
Looking out at the view, I couldn’t imagine a threat we’d need to defend. If anything, I wanted to be taken hostage by the vast beauty around me and slaughtered by nature.
When Tucker sat for his obligatory landscape photo, the breeze lifted his ear flap to whisper sweet nothings.
Onward we went, a mixture of dirt and pavement beneath our feet. The further we went, the more familiar it became and I realized where our trails met from the way we had gone before.
The blustery wind didn’t just play with Tucker’s ears; it was a rollercoaster for some playful ravens. I watched, entertained by their games in the winds.
We reached the end of the road, a trailhead at the top, and came back down the loop trail. There we found the tree from my memory—the one in the photograph. My greeting is just a nanosecond in a tree’s life, but so many of them make an indelible mark in my memory. I pondered then that perhaps it is not the mind’s memory that held our first encounter in a loving embrace, but the heart’s, and it’s that seal of love that keeps it tethered to me.
That sort of love and awe possessed people to add to Nature's art in their own way. The meditation circle on a lower mound was a human artifact blending with nature. It’s not like the barracks and concrete bunkers; it harmonized with Nature, to accent her beauty.
We walked among the stones, felt the vibrations, and carried down the hill again.
Even with more advanced human artifacts like houses and schools, Nature’s beauty shone above and beyond. The elegant angle of the cypress tree, the shine of sun off the moving tides, the rock cliff’s where the land greets the ocean and become one.
Hiking is never about the destination. It’s about the footfalls on the earth, the breath of nature, the perspective that changes with every turn. It is the metaphor of life: it’s not getting to the end that matters; it’s how you get there that brings you joy. And every tree and every view along the way is what makes up the slideshow in your heart, the catalog of love incarnate.
I am so grateful that no matter what the view or the trees are along the journey, that this is who I share the trail with. His smile fuels every step of the way and every beat of heart: on every hike we take and every moment of our life’s journey together. And his smile, his soul, is forever within my heart, a manifestation of love and joy that will be with me till the end of time.
I am so grateful that no matter what the view or the trees are along the journey, that this is who I share the trail with. His smile fuels every step of the way and every beat of heart: on every hike we take and every moment of our life’s journey together. And his smile, his soul, is forever within my heart, a manifestation of love and joy that will be with me till the end of time.
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