Drove over the hill yesterday, listening to Deadbeat Poets’ Society, Mott the Hoople (All the Young Dudes), shot pic of this nice little home in San Rafael…Went running alone, night-before-full-moon, no headlight necessary; it’s taken me years to cast off the feeling that I have to “train,” i.e. push it to stay in shape for races. Now I’m comfortable going at my own pace, pushing it a bit on the uphills to get the cardio system pumping, stopping to catch my breath and enjoy the view…photo of the coast…last photo of horses shot in pretty total dark. One of them came over and let me pat him on the cheek…the wetlands are dry this year; usually the frogs are loud, but nary a frog voice last night.