One of the benefits of retirement, besides the obvious one of not having to go to work every day and deal with the trials and tribulations of a regular job, has been getting to spend more time with my wife Carol. Over the past year Carol and I have made it a point to set aside at least one day each week for what we call Adventure Day. Our days include brunches, lunches, walks and bike rides, but what we love most is to get out in nature. Hiking and kayaking the various parks, rivers and lakes in our area have been our main modes of exploration. I once wrote that “nature is an antidote to restless times”, that statement has never rang truer than it does right now. Exploring nature with Carol is the perfect way for us to reconnect and to shut out, at least for an afternoon, the insanity of a world seemingly gone mad.

Our most recent adventure took us to Olompali State Historic Park. This little gem of a park sits right off the busy 101 freeway about 20 miles north of San Francisco in Novato. Prior to our visit all I knew about Olompali is that it was once a favorite haunt of the San Francisco rock glitterati. In the mid 1960’s members of The Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin and virtually anyone else associated with the SF music scene could be found up here spending blissful days tripping and carousing among the oaks, meadows, hills and forests. Carol and I decided to finally take the freeway offramp and see what this place was all about.

When we arrived, there was exactly one car in the parking lot. Another fringe benefit of retirement: we can explore our favorite nature spots while everyone else is at work. The trail took us around various historical buildings from the turn of the 20th century and up a steep climb through a mixed forest of oak, madrone and bay laurel. The rains of November and December had everything looking green and alive. A few tiny wildflowers poked their heads up out of the forest floor, a preview of the bigger springtime show to come. The trail eventually leveled out and the remainder of our climb was through long gentle switchbacks. Our destination was the top of 1,500 foot Mount Burdell. After hiking for about two hours, we stopped short of the summit for lunch. The clearing we chose had sweeping views of Petaluma Marsh, the eastern foothills and San Francisco Bay beyond. Cars moved like ants way below along the 101. We were so close to tens of thousands of people yet it felt like being in the middle of the wilderness. The air was cool and clean, the quiet nearly absolute. Carol and I ate our lunches, enjoying the easy silence between us.

Tiny white flowers

Paint the forest floor

Harbinger of spring

The highlight of our day occurred somewhere between the sandwiches and the chips. I noticed two very large birds wheeling and soaring in the sky directly above us. I trained my binoculars on them and much to my surprise saw that it was a pair of Golden eagles doing this dance for us! I’ve spent countless hours exploring nature but have never once been blessed with a sighting of this majestic bird. To see a pair of them seemed nothing short of miraculous. These are massive birds with a wingspan of over six feet. Golden eagles are year round residents of our area but are rarely sighted. Next to the California Condor, these are North America’s largest birds. Carol and  I watched in awe, knowing that we were seeing something very special. The birds soared higher and higher, eventually disappearing behind us to the west.

In endless blue

Two Golden eagles

Dance with the wind

We continued on our way to the summit of Mount Burdell. The views of Mount Tamalpias and the hills to the west were breathtaking. Along the spine of the ridge we spotted several large prints in the trailside mud, most likely those of a mountain lion or bobcat. On our way back down we caught a fleeting glimpse of a coyote. The Trickster of Native American legends was sniffing around our lunch spot. It melted back into the forest before we could get a clear look at it.

A flash of fur

And he’s gone

The Trickster knows

Towards the bottom of the trail we crossed a gentle spring-fed creek. What beautiful music it was making as it tumbled down the hillside over rocks and fallen branches. After these past few years of drought, I’ve developed a deeper appreciation for the sounds of running water. We returned to our car, feeling newly connected, not only to ourselves but to the natural world at our doorstep.

The forest speaks

A gentle silence

We hold our breath