charismatic megafauna
There are rumors of a coyote raising her pups on Bernal Hill. I dreamed about her before we moved. Very strong magic, said Jamey, to dream of a coyote. There have been actual sightings of a black bear at Point Reyes: notices were posted at the Palomarin Trail we hiked with Christopher last week. (Hike is a bit of a strong word: it probably wasn’t three miles to the beach and back. But I did climb the hill with a plump toddler in the Kelty Base Camp, which is not to be sneezed at.) Last night I dreamed I met the bear beside a creek. I was scared at first, but it turned out to be very tame and cuddly, with dense soft fur like Bebe’s. Not cuddly like a toy: dangerous but kind, like a very big dog. It put its muzzle in my hands.
Finally, a lion has attacked two horses around Felt Lake, where we used to keep Noah. The big fierce predators are coming back. I find it oddly comforting, like the herds of taki around Chernobyl. This is what the world will look like after we are gone. I am reading Bill Bryson’s Short History, which is full of asteroid strikes and hypercanes and the Yellowstone supervolcano, a bit like Mike Davis but on a cosmic scale and without the existential despair. Bryson makes these observations about life: life wants to be. Life doesn’t want to be much (look at lichen). From time to time, life goes extinct. Life goes on.
