I just got on the road

I’m nine miles to whale city

2 people went by in blue

Another group of 3 in white and red

On the left

Everything is starting to open up now

With a maximum speed of 55

Trying to stick to the right side of the road

But focused on the left because of the ocean

There’s just so many cars out here

What kind of person do you have to be

To turn on your lights all day

vs.

Being the kind of person that knows

You don’t need to turn on your lights

Until it gets dark at night

I don’t know

I’ll just keep driving

Trying to figure why we were designed

To cross the road and not really have

A full understanding

Of how fast cars are coming at you

Shouldn’t that be built in?

Everybody that I’ve seen

Tries to cross the road when it’s busy

Always underestimating the arrival time

Slower traffic keep right

I’m starting to lose some of the green

And gain some of the grey, the brown

It’s gets dryer the farther up north that you go

I’m heading to this location where

People are living an analogy

Of cultivating themselves and turning over soil

Starting fresh with a new approach

In perfect weather

Surrounded by others that are also trying to grow

I’m still driving

There’s a passing lane ahead

But slow traffic still needs to keep right

“For more information”

And a phone number in miniscule print on a road sign

That’s too small to read when you are going 65mph

That never made sense to me

Tags: 47, california, highway one, pescadero, rich harris, road trip, travel

We rolled up not sure if it was gonna rain or not. The past few days had been the largest tears I’ve seen mother nature cry in years. Once we entered the trail I immediately understood her grief. Fitted only with the most organic of green uniforms were the fallen. They had been witness to twice as much history as I. Often referred to as nature’s pillars of strength. The blood of these fallen continue to give new life to others.

We looked all around us and what used to be nothing but vertical stretches straight up into the sky, were now a scattered heap of limbs cross-crossing one another. It was a truly phenomenal experience witnessing the aftermath of her most recent tirade. We felt it coming for the last couple years and knew that this year she would probably deliver.

And she did.

Tags: 47, california, fall creek trail, felton, hiking, poetry, prose, rich harris, stories, trails