Instead of leaving town in July like we usually do, we stayed put. After a very travel-heavy first six months of 2024, this felt novel and necessary. On the plane home from Seattle we joked about going to our vacation beach house. Surprise! In July, our house really felt like the beach house it kind of is (and was likely originally meant for when it was built more than a century ago). It’s been great to enjoy the great weather and not miss out on some local events that happen around here in the summer months.
Last week, we finally went to the “Return of the Terns” celebration at Crab Cove, where we caught a bus with a couple dozen other bird lovers to tour the endangered Least Tern colony at Alameda Point and marvel at the birds’ life cycle. Another night, we played as part of the Bay Station Sunset Stroll showcasing our neighborhood’s local businesses. Saturday, we saw two great artists — Diana Gameros and Sunny War — at Radium Runway. Each event felt, in different ways, like a celebration of community, place and the possible.
Another day, we got in the car to drive south a bit and spend an afternoon on the trails of The Elkhorn Slough Reserve, the wildlife-rich tidal marsh on the Monterey Bay. We stopped for lunch at Woodward Marine Market on the Moss Landing Harbor and watched Brown Pelicans dive and seals swim by while eating incredibly fresh fish. Across from the restaurant, a nonprofit lab was raising endangered Sunflower Sun stars (a kind of starfish), which are crucial to the health of the kelp forest. Further down the lane, a small kiosk offered eco-tours of the slough waters.
We chose to stay on foot and walked around the boatyard a bit before heading over to the beach side to see what we could see beyond the harbor. The area is frequented by whales and the day prior, someone had spotted an albino dolphin swimming offshore. The sun had just burned off the last of the fog when we reached the sand and we could see hundreds of pelicans and cormorants and gulls forming loose flocks on the horizon. Closer in, a couple of sea otters floated on their backs near the harbor mouth, disappearing and reappearing with every swell. And just beyond the shore break we spotted a couple of dolphins following what was likely a school of fish as more gulls wheeled over the water. None of them were white but we were excited to see them nonetheless.
Between the sun and the sun stars, good food and the marine mammals, my mood was lifted considerably. For the next few hours of walking through the oaks and marshes at the Reserve, I mostly forgot about the low-level angst that’s been shadowing these otherwise lovely summer days. We paused to watch a coyote family across a pond who looked right back at us, sniffing the air. Were they dangerous? I imagined the mama coyote thinking, rightly, as her pup stood behind her. We humans, you just never know.
Between the sun and the sun stars, good food and the marine mammals, my mood was lifted considerably. For the next few hours of walking through the oaks and marshes at the Reserve, I mostly forgot about the low-level angst that’s been shadowing these otherwise lovely summer days. We paused to watch a coyote family across a pond who looked right back at us, sniffing the air. Were they dangerous? I imagined the mama coyote thinking, rightly, as her pup stood behind her. We humans, you just never know.
At the trailhead, a sign had warned us that there had been Mountain Lion sightings at the reserve.
“If you see a mountain lion, stay calm. Make yourself look larger. Hold your ground or back away slowly. Do not run. Do not approach a lion.” the sign instructed.
As we walked we peered carefully at the oak trees and and tangled brush that lined much of trail. I wondered if this would be the day I finally saw a big cat?
In the end we didn’t see any discernable trace of a cougar at the Slough. Still the mountain lion advice seemed like something I could use, on trail or off, amid the political and cultural climate we’re in right now. Between what appears to be the complete collapse of legacy media’s journalistic integrity, Project 2025, corrupted Supreme courts, cybersecurity failures, questionable poll, pundits1 and the misinformation campaigns, I’ve been feeling more anxiety, outrage and fear.
But it’s not the time for any of us to run (or hide!). It is the time to stay calm and hold our ground. And our ground is still democracy as we know it and the opportunity to vote and have our voices heard. Our ground is the scores of people working hard to restore wildlife and establish sanctuaries and reserves and found local businesses and make good food for one another and generally appreciate and acknowledge the variety of living beings who are all equal to one another. So after these weeks of trail walks, community events and local gigs, I’m continuing to write postcards and learn about text banking and what’s happening with Democrats2 and talk to everyone I know about voting and getting the vote out and seeing what we can do3.
A vintage Bay Station tune accompanied by footage of our participation in the 2020 'Vote by Boat' Rally on the SF Bay.