I’m not sure of the significance of the balloons tied to the wing mirror but the rest of the scene was all too obvious. ‘Press the button, push! push!, yes come on darling the button, press it’. But the infant, locked fast inside of the car played on, oblivious of the drama it was part of’. Presumably the toddler had been playing around pressing buttons on the dash and locked the car from the inside. ‘Push the button, PUSH IT!

I returned having completed shopping for lunch. The scene had not changed much. Although there were now windscreen shades to shield the child in the hot and airless car. It was still having a great time romping inside, secure in the knowledge that it’s parents were close by, waving. ‘Press the button’! ‘There’! Pointing. ‘There, THERE!

Soon the paramedic truck turned up. Looked like a fire truck. Four uniformed men, with no guns, stepped out. Surveying the scene one walked round the car checking to see if any of the doors were open! First go for the easy and obvious solution. As I drove away one of the men was consulting a manual, presumably to work out which slim jim to use with this model of car. The father looked worried yet resigned at the same time. I’d imagine it costs to have such a heavy duty call out. Four men and a fire truck sized truck all red with gleaming chrome.

One little family drama playing itself out under the public gaze. And left with the question, “How did that infant find itself alone in the car”. It could hardly have been left there on purpose, roaming free and unrestrained. And, “What kind of car security has a lock on the inside of the car”?

I wonder if we are not like the child, innocently playing while wiser discernment is trying to get our attention.

*From ‘That which is Engraved Upon the Heart That Trusts to the Eternal’
(Kanshi Sosan, 30th Ancestor), Buddhist Writings, Copyright Shasta Abbey Press

I walked up Solano Avenue this afternoon, it’s familiar territory and close to the Berkeley Priory where I’m staying at the moment. It’s all Starbucks and up-market boutiques now; the thrift store has long gone. The sun was out, sea mist coming and going with a brisk wind blowing dampness off the bay. Solano starts in the City of Albany and ends in the Berkeley Hills. And up there among the houses is something quite remarkable. Indian Rock a rock climbers haven which, it would seem, has links to WW2 history.

But few people know about little Indian Rock, as I call it. Where The Alameda intersects Solano there’s a path threading its way between the houses leading to Indian Rock. Then take the first left off this path and a few houses down on the right there’s a huge rock. Big as a house. The developers just skipped a plot left the rock there and made a neighbourhood park. Few people know about it or use. I sat at roof height to rest awhile and take in the vista.

Gazing out across the bay to distant San Francisco with the Golden Gate Bridge swathed in sea fog and Alcatraz looming out of the grey is to be transported. It’s almost to fly, or at the very least to have some moments of high-up, wind-blown, airy repose.

Close to the top of Solano is Pegasus; a bookstore selling new and second hand books. I strolled through, more a pilgrim than paying customer. Ah Pegasus, the flying horse of the Muses a symbol of high-flying imagination.

It’s good to spend time with my monastic family and also to check-in here too, when I can. Like sending a postcard, with wings, not knowing where it will land or who will read it.

Today would not have been my first choice for taking to the sky’s but that’s what I did. The flight from Vancouver to San Francisco was just over two hours and given the recent events in England passengers were asked to check-in three hours before the flight. The security was not hyper vigilant however I got the feeling there was a lot of unobtrusive ‘watching’ going on.

All the same one could have been forgiven for anxiety levels to be somewhat higher the day after a major ‘bust’. So I was delighted to find an article in the Alaska Airlines Magazine on the Giant Pacific Octopus by Brandon Cole. His close up photograph of the critters disc-shaped suckers as well as a number of other stunning close-ups had me transfixed, and distracted, for most of the flight south.

Sometimes it is skillful, and compassionate, to distract ones mind. To direct ones attention purposefully to something other than what’s occupying it. Or in my case for the last 24 hours, pre occupying it.

Here’s some script from the article for your interest and amazement.
“The arms of the Giant Pacific Octopus are lined with up to 1,600 disc-shaped suckers. They work together to grip with Herculean strength or manipulate with wondrous finesse. The suckers are wired into the creature’s advanced sensory system and are used to ‘taste” objects and creatures it encounters.” and latter in the article… “Enteroctopus Dofleini is the world’s largest octopus species–examples weighing more than 200 pounds with an arm span of more than 20 feet have been recorded in the cool, nutrient-rich waters of the Pacific Northwest.” The author goes on to say, “I’ve had them hop onto my head, ride piggyback on my air tank and play tug-of-war with my camera.”

As coincidence would have it Victor, who took the photo of the bridge at Lytton, has spent quite a bit of time down in the depths swimming around with the long armed ones between Vancouver Island and the mainland.

I’d like to think I will be able to continue to post regularly however these past couple of weeks have shown me that I’m most likely going to be sporadic for awhile. Thanks for continuing to visit. Do take a look at the photos to be found by following the link.