I posted this a few years ago and notice the version on my blog got scrambled, so here it is again; full screen recommended:

People keep saying “Beautiful day,” and I grit my teeth. Yes, the sun is out and sky is blue, but the weather is creepy. C’mon low pressure, move back in and let those storms blow in from the ocean. This photo is the end of a weak front that brought only 1/10th inch of rain…article in NYTimes titled “Older Mind May Just Be a Fuller Mind,” saying that the older you are, the bigger a library of memory you have to deal with, the longer it takes to access it. I’ve been saying to people for years that memory is not infinite and that some stuff has to get pushed out for new stuff to get stored — how’s that for rationalization of all the things I can’t remember now?…Also in NYT an article on sloths; they discovered that sloths have moth living aboard (in their fur) that create algae and a large part of sloths’ diet consists of eating this algae. Efficient or what?…Right now listening to Bach Sonatas and Partitas by Chris Thiele, mandolinist from The Punch Brothers. There’s something about the ringing tones of the mandolin that are perfect here, different from the sound of a violin or piano or harpsichord, and the musicianship is stunning; dazzling runs, lovely interpretation…Come to think of it, the whole point of the Llewyn Davis movie was not the film, but the concert film, “Another Day, Another Time,” made in New York in September; way better film…Last night we ran across a documentary on the Smithville Fiddlers’ Jamboree and Crafts Festival in Smithville, Tennessee, and was it good! It’s hard for us (east or west) coastal people to remember that there’s a huge part ofAmerica out there that’s not really on our radar. These fiddlers were so good, tons of them, quiet and unassuming and excellent and the clog dancers were a delight; I’ve got it marked on my calendar (July 4-5, 2014), and I might just go; maybe a road trip across America, maybe about time…Went eeling a few days ago and nada, maybe the big surf of late sent them into hiding…going to take my kayak to Tomales Bay this afternoon in search of horseneck clams and cockles…I’m on a campaign to get more seafood…had pasta with mussels last night…last, and the big news around here, is that we’re almost finished with Tiny Homes on the Move and I’m pretty thrilled with it.

Late yesterday afternoon I went for a paddle. It was glassy, no surf, like Lake Tahoe. I headed out towards the reef, paddling directly into sun low on horizon. You never know with the ocean. It can be gnarly and unfriendly, or lovely and perfect. Which it was yesterday. No surfers at all.

   My paddleboard (Joe Bark 12′ Surftek) just flew on the smooth water, it felt like the sun was pulling me, I had a wake. Ready to head for Hawaii. Well, not.

I got some seaweed at the reef, started paddling back. Up in front of me was a Western Grebe, floating. Elegant black and white head and neck. He didn’t seem concerned as I got closer. Then he dove, just under the surface, completely submerged, spun around, then came up and gulped down the little fish he’d snagged.

   I got closer and closer and this dude was not concerned. I passed within a few feet of him and he just kept up swimming, diving, eating. I hung out with him for maybe 5 minutes. What a great end to the day.

   Occasionally an animal (or bird) lets me into their world. Field mice around my feet when I was 12, conversations with owls (several times), a loon that rocketed underneath my paddleboard one day, an elegant grey fox that used to show up when we barbecued, coyotes more than once with their penetrating savvy out in the hills…

   Dried out seaweed on woodstove last night, this morning turned it to rough powder in the blender, now putting on eggs, meat, potatoes. Salt + ocean flavors.

Photo: Wikipedia (no indication of photographer)

“John Sears, 65, has given up life with cars and houses for life outdoors with a trio of four-legged equines.

For the last 10 years, the man who grew up in Bay Area suburbia now lives entirely outdoors, traveling the western United States in the company of three mules ages 13, 20 and 28 years old, respectively. They go by “Little Girl,” “Lady” and “Pepper.”

“We’re claiming our right to be outside,” said Sears, referring to a “we” that includes him, his mules, and “the spirits” – or the collective, living energy that surrounds them.

   On Tuesday, he walked along Bolsa Road in Gilroy with a silver horseshoe – or rather, a muleshoe – in hand. He declined to share why he carries the shoe, but said he saves shoes that fall off during his travels.

   Sears is a walking kind of man. He and his entourage have plodded through various states including Wyoming, Nevada, Oregon, Utah, Kansas and Texas, regularly walking at least 10 to 20 miles a day. In the summer, the days are longer and the group walks further. In the winter, they scout out a place to camp earlier and don’t wander as far.

“Who are we? Where are we from? We are mules. We are from the outside. We live outside all day, every day. Where are we going? Nowhere,” states Sears’ website, 3mules.com… ”

Click here.

Photo by Tom Raftery

This is one of many great photos on Treehugger’s Photo Pool:

If you don’t already know about it, TreeHugger is a great website/blog.