Muir Woods (California, l968)

Old trees, that is what they were, So high, they merged with the sky— Almost touched the upper void: 3000-years packed tightly into roots Soil astronomy never saw—; here Is where (in: 1968) my mother and I Walked, side by side…down—, its Old dirt pathway

As ever she strolled along beside me Without a burden, slowly, a mile an Hour. End of the road—across the Blue bay, laid San Francisco.

Funny how we remember such simple Afternoons, 30-years in the past, sitting Here now at El Parquetito, in Miraflores; Tomorrow, who knows what's next!

#1303 4/5/2006 (written in the afternoon, in Miraflores, Lima, Peru)) at El Parquetito Café/Restaurant; in 1968, my mother came to visit me from Minnesota, to San Francisco, I was but 21 or 22 years old at the time, and we went to Muir Woods, it was a most wholesome d

ay, and the woods were most enchanting. I remember it being a highlight of her trip, that she was to spend one week with me, then go south to visit my brother. I remember the woods being cool, and it was a warm day, very warm day. There were several more trips we'd experience together: Canada, Jamaica, Mexico and Las Vegas, all wonderful trips. I had discovered, that she was easy to travel with, and it would take me a life time to find another person whom I could travel with without conflict, which was my wife Rosa.

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