Sunday, March 8, 2009
Little Butano Creek and the boys of my youth
On Saturday, while Paul was teaching a workshop in Santa Cruz, I wandered up the coast. Just north of town there was a farmers' market, where a glowing array of kale, spinach, beets, lemons, bags of salad greens spiked with orange edible petals -- well, a big early spring bounty was laid out on folding tables under temporary tents. I loved that a lot of the vendors -- under signs with names like Happy Dog Farm and Bright Boy Produce -- looked like the young men who fascinated me around 1970: beards and long hair, handmade knit caps, "ethnic" clothes -- ah. Who gets to be so lucky, that a style that conveyed mystery and beauty when you were 17 returns (or never entirely vanished)? Blessings on California! Then I drove further up the coast, near Pescadero, and took a back road to Butano State Park, for a hike in a deep cool redwood grove. These photos were taken looking down from a wooden footbridge into Little Butano Creek.