You’ve gone hiking. Hiking, in the hills around here, has not been that kind to me in the past. My idea of hiking is to drive to the hills – very near the forests – and then walk a little ways. There was the time I fell while rejoicing having reached the top of a hill. Then…
There was the time that mountain lion crossed the path about 20 feet in front of me. You were in the rustic potty house, so I slowly backed up near to it and whispered: “David?” You have trouble hearing me when we’re sitting in the living room. “David?” I stood perfectly still. I leaned up against the structure. I watched the mountain lion ramble off into this high grass. On a sand dune. Near the ocean. Mountain lions near the ocean???? Finally you came out.
“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THERE COULD BE MOUNTAIN LIONS AT THE OCEAN!” I whisper -hollered.
Well that got your attention. “What?” you asked aloud.
“Oh geezum, shhhhh!” I whispered. “There’s a mountain lion over there in that high grass.”
You took my hand and we began walking AWAY from the car, in the direction of the beach trail. “Where do you think we’re going?” I asked.
“Have you lost your mind? Do you honestly think I’m going to walk around here? You must not have heard me. I just saw a MOUNTAIN LION.”
“It’s gone now. Maybe it was the mother looking for food.”
“Did you hear what you just said?”
We drove to the Greek bar & restaurant – that sweet little blue and white one across from the bed and breakfast. We asked for a table near the window and watched the sunset glow over Tomales Bay. Our waiter brought us fried oysters and a perfectly crisped baguette. Later, at the bar, we drank Becherovka – some sort of liqueur flavored with anise seeds and cinnamon. I began to feel much better.
I still don’t go hiking.