Wearing My Green Like Heaven

The Feast of Saint Patrick

After years of drought

The splendor of marsh ponds

 Run-off of the rains of El Nino

The Flaneur gone green on the cusp of Spring

on St Patrick's Day, the eye of Lent

Adventure started on College Avenue

A lovely vegetable garden for students 

Claremont Junior High School

A row of redwoods 

stand in insurgent grass

Noble survivors

Fairly constant traffic miasma

Toxic gas station on the site for decades,

Gone green for the while

I stopped for coffee beans

and had a strong cup of java,

Then waited under a tree

Where the avenue meets campus

For the bus Marina-bound

In no time I was down here

At the grassland nature preserve

 A wonder of reclaimed habitat

A sturdy fence keeps humans from penetrating

This realm of animals and plants,

Dogs are even banned

From the fenced-in trail

I'm close enough

To feel the aquatic presence

So deep in its peace

California poppies

Vanguard of the Spring

A network of momentary lakes

So stirring after visiting here

During the searing drought

 I came in with the arrow

My hike will follow the perimeter

Of that Northern rhombus

and back out

  Ah California

Just add water

It becomes verdant and fecund

 

Ach, a soggy bog

It doesn't this old Irishman's heart good

Crossroads of the trails

I met a leprechaun here once,

I've save the tale for me memoirs

Landscape and my mind,

No distinction

 Signpost
Obscured by time

I stopped at a picnic near here

For my marine lunch

Sardines, pumpernickel with almond butter,

A snappy fresh carrot,

Content in my solitude

The next table on was already spoken for

A Raven couple claimed it first

We didn't have ravens here

Until only a few years back

Not some common crow

These are indeed ravens

When I stopped near him

Him made himself look bigger,

Looks like the husband and kids

Might have come second, 

I'm seeking a bench myself

Yellow flowers in the grass,

Looking out toward El Cerrito

Birthplace of Credence Clearwater Revival

The great rock and roller John Fogarty

There's the other raven

An inviting spot but

Not quite what I had in mind

Another congenial bench

With its own circle of stones

Yellow sure is yellow

Ah there's the spot

A bench with my name on it

Where I always wind up

The magnificent San Francisco bay

The city and the Golden Gate

All a-sparkle under mild air

Off northward

Marin and Mount Tamalapais

Big sky mind

Last year's withered vegetation 

Dry and unyielding

They should have burned it here

An intrepid kayak the sole boat

The grass where I lie down
So soft and mild
I was briefly asleep

On the way out again

A lone fellow on the hillside

Flying his model airplane

As the shamrock moon

Rises behind him

in vast quietude

17 March 2016

Soundtrack:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n730FWycrTY&ebc=ANyPxKqF9JUCwONtZhuuWUOB1t5HCP526xEAhUlP5DvIqUyvcyXNlFedNWRiR2bg3BhYuitQC4yaHjcoFAVqu-0oQb_8DJxjNQ 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Sje2VYw99A&ebc=ANyPxKoOrZ6Yime7PP_w_m7mEHqJhsx-BsG3igyHrtgTcr7gtcZIHS2zvcNBN5pKEzL0h4-9xwsWuvigszob07QcbztV37UPYA