Jane, John, and Henry

There are a few authors whom I admire very much and like to read and re-read, among them:  John Muir, Jane Austen, and Henry Thoreau.  The last several days I've been reading a chapter or so in the evening, alternating between conversations with Mr. Muir and Mr. Thoreau.  I've very much enjoyed my visits with Mr. Muir-- we've chatted about his wild adventures up and down great mountains, his joy in the natural world, and his insatiable curiosity about this great wide world and what abounds in it.  Everything sings to him of the goodness of the Creator, and he cannot help but to sing along!

With Mr. Thoreau... well now... there I can't say I've passed my time so pleasantly.  Usually I can laugh a little, and shake my head congenially, as I chat with Mr. Thoreau, but these last several days I find him to be, if I am to be wholly truthful, didactic and self-important. Honestly there have been several times where I find myself thinking, "Poo-poo-poo!  Look who knows so much!  Yes, yes.  You're very smart.  Now, shut up." Philosophical heresy.  That's what that is.

I've been endeavoring to exercise daily.  Because I'm bored to death of running around the neighborhood, I've been going on adventures to some of the local hiking and running trails.  We live very near some rolling blonde hills pitted with oak groves, and further off in the opposite direction we've found some coastal trails complete with seals and ragged cliffs.  Sandy and I chose the blonde hills today.  We followed a trail which lead to the top of a ridge from which we could see the entire bay:  from San Francisco all the way to San Jose.  It was really, really lovely.

Perhaps tomorrow I'll invite Jane over for a visit.  It's always pleasant to talk with a keen observer.

Sunol Regional Wilderness-- pretty, ain't it?