I saw this rig yesterday, and pulled over to shoot a photo. Steve told me he’d pulled the rig from his home to the yacht harbor at 8 AM, maybe 2 miles, gone out and caught 10 rockfish (stowed neatly away) and was on his way home. It was rigged intelligently, rods, rod holders, etc. Steve has thought it through.This isn’t just fishing, it’s eco fishing. He’s going from home to the water — no gasoline — propelling himself around the ocean by hand (paddle) — no gasoline — getting back home with high quality fresh food. Perfect.

I went clam digging during a low tide in Tomales Bay early Saturday morning. Got a bunch of small clams, some mussels, and a few rock oysters, but in exploring the mud flats for horseneck clams, I found myself sinking in the mud. Down to about knee-level; when I would pull one foot out, the other would sink just as deep. Made me think of quicksand, and I got a bit worried. No one was around, the tide was about to start coming in, and here I was mired in muck. Finally, when pulling my right foot out, my boot came off, so here I was one boot on, one boot off, mud up to both knees. I finally hobbled and slurped my way to solid ground, but not without some worrying and chastising self for yet another dumb move. Got cleaned up back at truck, had some clam chowder for breakfast, and headed home.

Left: boat with strange hull in the Marshall boat yard.

Saw a beautiful coyote on a recent (unsuccessful) mushroom hunt. The coyotes I see every so often on the highway are a bit scuzzy looking, but this one was grand. Reddish shiny coat, black tail tip; he was big and had a princely profile like a fox.

Left: coyote scat, indicating a diet high in mice, gophers. Looks like an art object.

Going through Stinson Beach Tuesday a deer bolted down the road. Galloping, two front feet, then two rear feet alternately. Rippling front leg muscles. Powerful and healthy. Then that night, on my nighttime run by headlight, another coyote at the nearby farm. Ran away from me, then climbed to the top of a pyramid-shaped compost pile. The Joker.

This morning more varieties of birds than I’ve ever seen outside the kitchen window. Crows, doves, quail, robins, red-winged blackbirds. a Rufus-sided towee (little beauty), sparrows (ugh), and the ever-spooky rock pigeons. Cornucopia of feathered flight.

   Some years ago I had a series of dreams about flying. It wasn’t like I was just floating in the air. I had to run along, flap arms, and take off. So utterly real, still thrills me to think about it. I often watch (in envy) the elegant-in-flight turkey buzzards riding updrafts by the ocean cliffs, or a line of Pelicans just inches above the water, gliding on the updraft of breaking waves. Eat my heart out.

   Here are some Fluted Black Elfin Saddle mushrooms Lew gathered in Inverness, too far past prime to eat, but the only half-way decent fungi in the woods right now. C’mon rain! C’mon low pressure, which allows the storms to come in off the ocean.

Got my 15 hp Evinrude outboard motor tuned up. Billy and I are going clamming, musseling, and crabbing on Saturday in Tomales Bay. I have a 12′ aluminum Klamath boat. It’s a little dicey getting out through the ocean waves here with a boat that small, but Tomales Bay is a piece of cake. I’m dedicated to getting ever more food from the wild.

   Spring is peeking around the corner. The light is richer, green grass growing, plum tree budding out, red-winged blackbirds singing their Spring song. I’m a child of Spring, born in April, so I feel exuberant this time of year.

I’ve read about the local herring runs in the papers, but never seem the phenomenon  up close. Yesterday I was driving through Sausalito along the waterfront and things were hopping. Hundreds of seagulls wheeling and diving, and a bunch of flat bottomed aluminum fishing boats pulling in nets. I stopped and  started shooting photos when I heard someone yell “Lloyd!”It was my friend Jasper Monti, hunter and fisherman extraordinaire. He had on waders, and was carrying a net and two 5 gallon buckets.

   He explained that he was going to freeze the herring for salmon bait, and showed me how to cast the net. He pointed out all the tiny herring eggs that had been deposited on the rocks and seaweed on the shore. Well, right up my alley! I’m getting a net next week in San Francisco will be ready next year. Going to try making pickled herring.

The crab fishermen don’t know what’s going to happen each year, until they pull in their first pots. The sport season is open and things are looking good. Our friend Billy is holding this not-so-gentle giant and doesn’t this guy have poisson-ality? He’s pissed. (I was waiting for an action shot if he managed to grab Billy’s finger.)

It’s been a good year for fish around here. Amazing, what with the state of the world…