Strange Footprints

So I’m out there walking on a March afternoon, taking in long views across waves of green rolling hills in western Petaluma, when I glance down at the trail and see it: fresh prints of a three-toed creature. with three long claws. I see one print, and then another, and then a chain of them lining the dirt path I’m following, never veering from it to the grass at either side of the path, and I don’t stray either, but I do avoid marring their perfect strangeness. The earth is soft, and their impression is as clear as a handprint in sand. What in the world was here before me?

I turn and look behind me; a lone man in a T-shirt and jeans is jogging uphill. Ahead, two teenaged boys careen around on mountain bikes, looking for more adventure, and I’m thinking all they have to do for more thrill is look down at the path they’re crossing. The pattern of footprints is steady and clear. But they don’t see the pattern on the trail, they’re too busy looking for the best places to point their bike tires.

I keep walking, until the jogger finally reaches me, and when he does, I ask him what he thinks about the prints. He stops and looks down at the trail where he’s been raising dust. “Whaa?” he cries. He studies the footprints like I did when I first saw them, and we stand together, puzzling it out. We’re not getting anywhere, so after a few moments he shakes his head and takes off to continue his jog.

I shoot pictures, lots of them. I have to look closer at these images when I get home and email a few to a friend who knows animal tracks like most people know models of cars.

I try to imagine the creature whose feet made these prints — a hoary troll with legs like chicken drumsticks and tangled, wiry black hair hanging down its bare back? This isn’t the kind of place a hoary troll would typically take a walk on a sunny spring afternoon. The scene here is more than innocent, pastoral, serene.

I track the prints until they disappear near the top of the hill. I text one of the photos to a friend, and I hear back right away. She’s sure she knows what it is.

Do you? Leave a reply!

TREASURE OF THE DAY

 A trail of mysterious footprints.

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It’s Your Turn!

A friend of mine celebrates New Year’s Day on Spring Equinox. It makes so much sense to start the new year on March 21, doesn’t it? Spring is ideal for beginnings, not the depths of winter. Here’s to tossing off the restrictions of the Gregorian calendar! The New Year has begun.

And with this new year I’ve decided to offer a new online class this blog has inspired: Treasures of the Day: Finding the Extraordinary In the Ordinary.

As part of the online group you post your photos and short writings about the treasures you find. Every Monday for eight weeks I send the week’s topic and six suggestions for the treasure hunt direct to your inbox. You keep your eyes open for that treasure, snap a photo of it when you find it, and post the photo(s) along with a writing it inspires to the members-only site. The writings can be as short as a single line, a title, a poem, or something a little longer. It’s inspiring waking up wondering what the treasure will be today. Join me!

Get a new view. You’ll never see the same way again.

Layers of Triple Cream

There’s a saying, “The only way out of the desert is through it,” and that’s where I’ve been: walking the desert. I’m gritting my teeth, doing rehab exercises for this frozen shoulder and getting into the swing again. Sorry I’ve been away a couple of weeks.

Writing has always been my lifeline, and it was writing that threw me the rope last weekend, with a poetry workshop in Pt. Reyes, on Marin County’s wind-blown and mind-clearing Tomales Bay. Using a pen and notebook, with the workshop leader’s great topics, we quick pushed out nine poems in four hours.

I was back, and I knew three things:

1) I missed my blog and couldn’t wait to get back to it.

2) I can write even if it hurts my shoulder.

3) It’s time to expand beyond online memoir classes and offer a place for people to get involved in treasure hunting, like I am. Check out what I’m offering, starting April 30, on my website.

That afternoon I got back to treasure hunting after a few weeks away, and it felt great. I walked the breezy streets of coastal Pt. Reyes Station, a town with a population that barely tops 800, and stepped inside an artisan cheese shop called Cowgirl Creamery.

Fresh cheeses made from organic milk supplied by a local family creamery filled the refrigerator cases, but it was the newest ones, the rounds not even wrapped, that dazzled me. I was thinking about repeating patterns, my treasures topic for March, and they were here in abundance.

TREASURE OF THE DAY

Globes of fragrant, fresh cheese.