Witnessing A Grand Grey Heron Spreading its Wings in the Roaring Vasona Reservoir Spillway

“Our task must be to free ourselves…by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” —Albert Einstein

I made my way down the muddy embankment off the biking trail by foot while friend Bill Rothenberg and daughter Madeline who were ahead of me waited at the top overlooking Lake Vasona. The purpose was to capture the roaring water run-off from the Vasona Reservoir spillway with my iPhone camera. After a winter rainstorm, the water gushes forth with a more powerful thrust than usual. What I didn’t expect was to witness a grand Grey Heron standing on a cement curb forward of the spillway. At the end of our ride, Bill and I parted company (Madeline had to leave early) as I wanted to stop in town for take-out food (Herb Green Falafel and Hummus) from Oren’s Hummus.

After placing my lunch in my trusty Sondor’s clip-on bag on the back fender rack, I rode back on the Los Gatos Creek Trail and returned to the spillway, and to my surprise the grey heron was still there, standing upon a rock in the flowing creek bed. I tried to get closer. It shifted and hopped into the creek, hunched up, its wingtips drooped down, and in a split-second, with its back facing toward me it spread its wings wide open into a full monte. I was sure it was looking for a mate. I was thinking it was so unusual an event that I turned around to see if anyone else witnessed it. It’s not that I hadn’t ever seen such an exhibition. I had observed cormorants standing with wings spread in the sun drying their feathers for the first time in Kenya while on a camera safari. I also have seen cormorants drying their wings on a rock or the dock of the lake where we live. Their external feathers are wettable and maintain an insulating layer of air next to the skin when swimming underwater. I just didn’t expect to see the posture in a great heron. In fact, I’ve seen my share of grey, white and grey herons mostly standing patiently in the reeds searching for small fish to eat whole, as this one was doing earlier. But I have never seen them spread their wings in such a seemingly provocative way. It turns out that the full wing spreading or what is referred to as “Flasher Pose” in herons is one of their maintenance behaviors.

According to janthina images photo-journal, It could be that the purpose of this pose while mostly facing the sun is to dry their wings, but also a way to keep itself cool to sway parasites and other pests from hanging out and makes them more accessible for the heron to remove during preening. Or, maybe it was just doing yoga:) After all, the truth is ancient yogis mimicked or modeled their practice after trees, wheels, dogs, and other wildlife and animals they observed in nature.

Took Lyla on an Outing to the Innovative Magical Bridge Playground in Her Yellow Boots

“From a color theory perspective, every child is drawn to the colors they need emotionally at the moment…sometimes a particular color makes a child ‘feel better...'

—Maureen Healy, author of The Emotionally Healthy Child

“Yellow is for the thinkers. Toddlers who like yellow might be good at planning and strategizing even if that just means organizing their toys."

—Week World News

Cecile and I had about two hours yesterday to take Lyla for a walk through the neighborhood to the Magical Bridge Playground before an impending rainstorm was about to plow through the Bay Area the rest of this week. Lyla has dressed appropriately in her pink water-resistant hooded jacket and her favorite yellow rain boots.

The Magical Bridge Playground is a world-renowned concept first developed in Palo Alto and now at Red Morton Community Park in Redwood City. It is designed to be socially inclusive for children and adults of varying physical and cognitive abilities. Its’ aim is to go beyond typical playground designs, that often overlook the growing autistic population, cognitively challenged, visually and hearing impaired, physically limited, and the aging population.

Yellow represents happiness and a love of learning, the freedom to express your individuality by creating new ideas, sharing your collected knowledge with others, and having a deep need for logical order in your everyday life. When I lifted Lyla up to place her in one of the bucket swings she intuitively knew she shouldn’t and couldn’t get into the swing with her big yellow boots. “Too big Papa!” she said. Of course, she was right.

Toddlers want what they want when they want it. Have you ever tried to tell a toddler “no” when they want something? Lyla is no different. She is learning the art of negotiation at an early age, and to counteract such willfulness, Cecile has taught her the “Yes,” song, which makes her smile.

As an adult, we can rationalize decisions based on what we know to be the best for us.

Toddlers, however, live in a world of their own where “they" make the rules until they learn about ours.

There are eight or nine different sections or zones in the playground. Lyla, Cecile, and I got our groove on at the Music Zone which is an artist-designed 24-string Musical Laser Harp and Drums activated by stepping up and

down in a series of concentric circles. There is also an Innovation Zone, Spin Zone, Swing & Sway Zone, Picnic Area, Playhouse, and Play-stage for pretend-play where children experience the full range of their senses and feelings. Alternately, there is the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative funded Tot Zone for young children to create friendships, explore, take risks, develop fine and gross motor skills and absorb a vast amount of basic knowledge. Finally, there is the Kindness Corner, the heart of the Magical Bridge, which is a gathering place for reflection, compassion, education, and modeling positive behavior, basically reinforcing all the lessons learned in many of the children's books we read Lyla. Then, Lyla wanted to play hide and seek or should I say hidden in plain sight hide and seek (hands to her eyes:).

Shortly, after we made it back to our daughter Michelle’s and Kyle’s house. Cecile fed Lyla, we read a couple of stories to her and she went down for her nap. View Lyla on the blue bumpy slide by clicking on the following short Vimeo video link:

https://vimeo.com/507266421

Postscript: Future Magical Bridge Playground being planned in a city near you

https://climaterwc.com/.../redwood-city-residents-enjoy.../

A Frigid Bike Ride in the Neighborhood on the Way to the Historic Saratoga Quarry Park

If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere [in every season].” —Vincent Van Gogh

“Wherever you go, no matter the weather, always bring your own sunshine. —Anthony J. D'Angelo

The 70 degree days we were blessed with came and went. Currently the temperatures have dropped to the just under 40 to 50 degrees. The floating cloud formations have been incredibly prolific. Some angry looking and others billowing with reflections of light from the sun (photos). The cold snap didn’t stop friend and neighbor Bill Rothenberg and I from going for a bike ride this weekend before the much needed rain set in and will continue after today’s respite. After noodling around local private family vineyards, stately homes in quiet untrodden neighborhoods and dirt trails, hidden away from traffic, we made our way to Saratoga Quarry Park, located a mile outside historic Saratoga Village just passed Hakone Gardens. In conjunction with Santa Clara County and the Mid-peninsula Regional Open Space District the land was purchased by the city of Saratoga in 2011 with the intention to develop a park. Future plans include connecting the Quarry Park to the Skyline to the Sea Trail though the Santa Cruz Mountains, a bicyclist and hiker’s dream.

In the mid 1850s the site was first used to mine lime for the gold and silver mining industry. The county operated the quarry from 1921 to 1967 to extract rock and gravel for the county roads. After the quarry was closed in 1967, it was used for private picnics, parties and weddings until the 1990s.

Remnants of the quarry days still remain and are celebrated for its historical significance including old mine cart axles that were converted to benches. The sturdy gravel trails are well marked with signs and vary from level to steep climbs, and there are extensive picnic grounds for warmer times. There are concrete remains of the Old Loading Structure by the parking lot entrance that was once used to deposit freight onto train cars. The building now contains large black and white photos from when the quarry was fully active.

We were surprised to see several families hiking around the gravel trails on such a cold day, but these days of sheltering in place, people are taking advantage of being out in nature, which is allowable under CDC guidelines with the usual precautions.

A Hovering Helicopter Above Bay Club Courtside Gets Members Attention

"The helicopter approaches closer than any other [vehicle] to the fulfillment of mankind’s ancient dream of a flying horse and the magic carpet.” —Igor Sikorsky

My plan was simple. I would go to the Bay Club Courtside resort-style facility to nurse my aching sacroiliac joint in my right hip with a little self-administered hydrotherapy as I had done the day prior and swim a few laps before taking a bike ride on the Los Gatos Creek Trail behind the Netflix headquarters and campus directly across the street from the club.

To this end, I strategically sat in front of the pulsating hot tub jets which provided virtually immediate relief. While lounging on the comfortable, thick cushioned royal blue chaise lounge waiting for a pool lane to be freed up, I heard the signature sound of a helicopter as did others who were just as curious and entertained as I was.

Some people describe the sound of the rotating blades of a helicopter as whirling, clapping, chopping, or fluttering as it hovers in place. The sound conjures up all sorts of things (good and bad) depending on one’s experience. For me I am reminded of the time I invited my late dad to take a helicopter ride with me while vacationing in Maui; recalling the hit series “Mash” starring Alan Alda as Hawkeye or "Good Morning Vietnam” starring the late Robin Williams back in the day. More currently the popular Seal Team series comes to mind.

The defining characteristic of a helicopter is its ability to hover at any point during a flight. Helicopters hover by generating lift from the horizontal rotating blades. As the air is sliced and separated by the blade an upward lift force is created, keeping the helicopter suspended in the sky. It is it’s hovering in place capability that allowed me to capture these photos and short video clip:

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At a time when travel restrictions are still in place due to COVID-19, I have really enjoyed the outdoor pools and hot tub, especially during the resurgence of the great 70-degree weather we’ve been having of late in the South Bay. I am also grateful for the health and safety protocols that the management has put in place and the friendly and helpful staff who are doing their best to serve its’ members.

Feeling Alive and Refreshed From my 25-Mile Solo Lexington Reservoir Bike Ride

“The bicycle has a soul. If you succeed to love it, it will give you emotions that you will never forget.”

—Mario CIpollinni

My 25-mile roundtrip bike ride began along the Los Gatos Creek Trails, where one can see turtles sunning themselves on rocks in the creek, scrub jays and squirrels gathering acorns for the winter, a great egret wading in the water looking for fish, geese, and ducks lounging over the spillways, nests perched on tree branches, brush piles, and holes in the ground, any one of which can be a home for an animal in-the-wild. In fact, wildlife use this unbroken creek corridor as a natural highway, just as bicyclists like myself use the adjacent mostly paved trails as a nature-driven refuge to energize our bodies and recharge our spirits.

Eventually, the trails lead to a series of wooden and paved pedestrian and bicyclists bridges that cut through the hidden path behind downtown Los Gatos. It continues to follow the creeks, shady underpasses, and wide dirt and gravel trails leading to Lexington Reservoir County Park, popular with people who enjoy hiking, running, and bicycling.

The reservoir loop as it’s called is a relatively moderate clockwise ride removed from the traffic that traces the outline of the Lexington Reservoir. In fact on this sunny weekday, there were hardly any cars or other bicyclists on the road. I practically had it all to myself except for a couple of motorcycle riders that whizzed by. I was in no rush. The journey is more important to me than the destination, and I love to make unplanned stops to take photos along the way. Aside from several hairpin turns there are a few notable climbs along the stretch of the ride, one of which is a short slope where the grade reaches approximately 20% for a couple of hundred feet.

I have grown accustomed to pausing at Dakota William Toy's roadside memorial. Dakota died in a tragic car accident on August 25, 1994. He was only 20 years old. He aspired to be an electrician like his dad and grandfather. His passions were cars, bike riding, and traveling. The memorial is lovingly tended with colorful flower baskets and a makeshift wooden cross. This time I noticed a small card with the word ‘Happy' imprinted on it (photo).

When I circled the reservoir to the other side, I entered a dirt road with great reservoir lake views and followed a young fisherman down a makeshift path which allowed me to make it to the water’s edge around a thousand feet away from the graffiti-filled underpinning of Highway 17. This was my final respite before retracing my way back home. The views were breathtaking. When I headed back towards the path I spotted the remnants of a yellow mylar birthday balloon with a string attached propped up on some ground cover with a smiley face (photo). The universe does have a sense of humor at times.

My Granddaughter Lyla & I Discovered an Alien Mutant-Looking Fruit While Picking Lemons

“Lemons are like people. As long as the insides are OK, it doesn’t matter if they don’t look perfect.”

—Dan Haggarty posted on Quora

After sliding down the slide a few times from the play structure we had bought Lyla for Christmas, this little bundle of joy and energy was ready to do something else. “Pick lemon,” she said. The lemon tree in our daughter Michelle and husband Kyle’s back yard is just a few feet away. I picked Lyla up and ‘Lo and Behold,' there was the most unimaginable looking lemon I had ever seen, and I am willing to bet the same goes for Lyla in her two years of life. In fact, she looked bemused.

When Beyonce recorded her latest “When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade,” I don’t think metaphorically these were the type of lemons she had in mind.

Don’t get me wrong I have seen other deformed-looking fruits and vegetables before, and they are edible. There is even a market for them, but you will not see them in the general food markets.

However, there is a variety of lemon called “The Buddha’s Hand Citron" sold by specialty grocers and Asian markets around the country. What makes it unique is that it has long fingered tentacles at the end and rarely has any juice on the inside. While the Buddha’s Hand has no juice, the fruit itself is edible and can be used to make Citron Sun-Tea, can be blended with Vodka and sugar, into a Buddhachello, has strong antifungal and antibacterial properties, natural perfume or room freshener, used in salads, keep away insects (Citronella) and many other uses.

The Buddha’s Hand actually has a significant role to play in Buddhism, where it is considered to be a special offering in temples, and used during New Years’ in China (Photo). It likely originated in India more than 2,000 years ago. The fruit is a symbol of happiness, longevity, and good fortune and typically given as a New Years’ gift. The finger-like extensions of the hand resemble ‘praying hands,' and its’ yellow color represents the 'Yin and Yang’ or balance of life. A story to tell Lyla when she's a little older.

The Only Sunsets That I Don't Like are the Ones I Missed

“There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset and it’s up to you to choose to be there for it,' said my mother. ‘Put yourself in the way of beauty.’”

—Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

An Opacarophile is defined as a person who loves sunsets. The word is broken down into two parts: 'opacare’ which is Latin for dusk or sunset, and ‘phile’ which is Greek for love.

If I learned anything this past year, is that you don’t have to be vacationing on some exotic island to enjoy a stunning, calming, sunset. It makes your worries melt away. It is a natural mood elevator. It enriches one’s life and gives you a sense of gratitude. It slows downtime and gives you a moment to reflect, and it’s available to you FREE 360 days a year.

Whether you are walking, running, bicycling, and even driving, any person can enjoy a sunset. Here are some sunsets I photographed on the Los Gatos Creek Trails this past week.

The fourth photo was taken by my wife Cecile while we were driving back from Fremont, CA just as the sun was beginning to set.

A Poem by Mary Oliver called The Sun:

"Have you seen anything in your life more wonderful than the sun, every evening, relaxed and easy,

floats toward the horizon and into the clouds or the hills, or the rumpled sea, and is gone—and how it slides again out of the blackness, every morning, on the other side of the world, like a red flower streaming upward in early summer, at its perfect imperial distance—and have you ever felt for anything such wild love—do you think there is anywhere, in any language,

a word billowing enough for the pleasure that fills you, as the sun reaches out as it warms you as you stand there, empty-handed or have you to turned from this world—or have you too gone crazy for power, for things."

Remembering the late Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) Life Member Frank Augustine on the Anniversary of his Birthday

"Thanks to the eldest son, Dr. Dennis F. Augustine (retired), for honoring his late Dad by writing about his contributions to his country during a time of America’s upheaval leading up to the Great Depression and the Second World War and, for serving his community in his later years. Please note that Frank Augustine was born January 5, 1917, not 2017 (Apologies for the misprint)."

Dad was one of tens of thousands of young men to serve in Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), the brain-child of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal in the 1930s, a work relief program that contributed to the renewal and beautification of the country. Dad also served as a cook in Company 1296 Blackfoot, Idaho, and Company 3201, Gibbon, Oregon, 1940. When he died at the end of 2017, I had intended to write a memorial tribute in his honor, but the mourning of his passing, and personal family issues, made it virtually impossible. When I finally had the time to submit a posthumous story to be published, the COVID-19 pandemic crisis delayed its’ publication even further. When I asked Joan Sharpe, president and editor of the CCC Legacy Journal if it was too late, she kindly responded: “It’s never too late to honor a CCC boy,” and my tribute to dad was finally published in the April-October 2020 issue.

To access the story and accompanying photographs please double click on the link below!

https://www.dropbox.com/.../2020%20Vol.%2044%2C%202%2C...

Belated New Years Toast with our Son Jason & Dinner from Hong's Gourmet Cuisine

Belated New Years Toast with our Son Jason & Dinner from Hong's Gourmet Cuisine

It was Jason’s idea to toast the New Year with a Sidecar cocktail (Just one!). Cecile and I had the Grand Marnier and fresh lemon juice and Jason provided the Cognac. Normally, we would use a cocktail glass as shown in the photo but almost everything is packed away for our upcoming kitchen remodel. So we had to improvise by using copper mugs normally used for Moscow Mules. The drink is said to be invented at the turn of World War 1 in either London or Paris and is named after sidecar motorcycle attachment, which was very common in those days (Photo of Cecile and me in a souped-up modern-day version while vacationing in Maui a few years ago). The Ritz Hotel in Paris claims the origin of the drink.

“It is difficult to imagine any year when our need for this ritual has been greater. Many of us have lost those dearest to us and absorbed those losses in isolation. Livelihoods have been wiped out…We have never been so constrained in our rituals. That does not mean we are not celebrating. Inside lighted rooms, we raise glasses to the people who sacrificed for us, to the triumphant performance of our health care workers, and to a thousand small kindnesses already receding from memory…The end of a year may be an illusion, just a way to trick ourselves into keeping going. But we made it.”

—Ellen Barry

Happy New Year 2021 to our Friends and Family & an Uplifting Message of Hope

With all the terrible things that have happened in the world this past year, everyone is anxious for it to end. We often feel guilty when experiencing moments of joy or any form of elation

when our fellow human beings are suffering. But letting ourselves feel joy when it arises is a crucial part of our collective healing. One of the tools I have found useful and inspiring is reading poetry about the human condition that allows me to sift through the anguish and hold onto the joy of being alive. Poetry is like medicine for the soul. It can inspire hope that the reality of something horrific that on various levels has affected us all won’t last forever, and that change is on the horizon if we are willing to work for it or give it time. Even a glimmer of hope during a time of hopelessness is the solace we all seek.

One glimmer of hope is offered in the poem by Laura Kelly Fanucci, a nationally syndicated columnist, “Faith at Home,” that went viral this year:

“When this is over, may we never take for granted

A handshake with a stranger

Full shelves at the store

Conversations with neighbors

A crowded theater

Friday night out

The taste of communion

A routine checkup

The school rush each morning

Coffee with a friend

The stadium roaring

Each deep breath

A boring Tuesday

Life itself

When this ends

May we find that we have become

More like the people

We wanted to be

We were called to be

We hoped to be

And may we stay that way—better

For each other

Because of the worst.”

Peace, Love, and Light

Dennis & Cecile

Postscript: Photos of us babysitting our Granddaughter Lyla taken in Redwood City, CA

She is still enjoying the Christmas decorations in the neighborhood.

Night Riding: Enjoying A Colorful Sunset & Full Moon & a Happy Coincidence

"Sun and moon can’t rise at the same time…One must set...to let [the other] rise.” —Khushi

Though I absolutely adore sunsets while out bike riding (see photos), unlike the sun, there is something soothingly captivating in gazing up at a full moon. While roving about the spacious trails of Los Gatos Creek Park, I had the chance to witness the final full moon of 2020 last evening, known as the December cold moon. The nickname “cold moon” is attributed to the native American Indian tribe, the Mohawks that give a nickname to each full moon of the year. The full moon in December is commonly known as the “cold moon” due to the plunging temperatures that begin showing up as winter sets in.

I love how poet Tahereh Mafi metaphorically describes a moon in general. It resonates with me:

“The moon is a loyal companion.

It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast,

knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing

forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version

of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong

and full of light. The moon understands what it means

to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections."

I felt completely rejuvenated from my bike ride when I left the protected open trails of the park. On the last leg of my ride, someone rode up alongside me and called out my name. It was my son-in-law Kyle’s brother Chip. Apparently, I wasn’t the only nightrider pushing the envelope. He had just finished a ride on Hick’s Road and was headed home as well. Hick's Road is part of an urban legend of being "haunted," but that's a story for another time.

Chip and I stopped to take a “selfie" in front of the El Camino Hospital ER sign. It serves as a reminder that biking can be a bit dangerous even if you're careful, especially at night.

If you enjoy being alive and motivated by the spirit of adventure, you must try to manage your risk. This is why I upgraded to a stronger front white spotlight on my handlebar and a red flashing light at the rear for the occasional night ride.

I invited Chip to follow me on one of my long shortcuts (As my wife Cecile puts it:-) over a pedestrian and cyclists bridge that crosses over highway-85 to get him to his destination. On the way, we stopped on the protected overpass to observe the cars and trucks go whizzing by. Usually, when I am off on a solo ride, my companions are my bike and my iPhone camera. However short my coincidental meeting with Chip on the way home, it was nice to have the company.

Riding Montebello Road in the Santa Cruz Mountains with Son-in-Law Kyle & Brother Chip Lewis

"Feet on the pedals, head in the pillowy cumulus clouds, brisk temperatures and a beautiful rainbow."

My son-in-law Kyle invited me to join him and his brother Chip on a bike ride on Montebello Road in the Santa Cruz Mountains. “Montebello”(Italian and Spanish for 'beautiful mountain') rises 2,000 feet above Silicon Valley, a few miles from the new Apple Spaceship campus. The road is just off Stevens Canyon Road, just past the Stevens Creek Reservoir and the old rock quarry. There are some terrific views of Santa Clara Valley below. The cloud formations, intermittent showers, and a colorful rainbow (photo) added to nature’s spirited entertainment. There are a short series of switchbacks, zig-zags and stair-step climbs up the mountain. I made it a mile past Pichetti’s Winery when I noticed my battery power on my pedal assist Sondor’s eBike began to wane to the 25% mark. Having uneventfully made this climb to the top on a prior ride, I knew instinctively, I wouldn’t make all the way to the Ridge Winery. Though Kyle offered to accompany me back down, I insisted he and Chip continue the climb without me.

On the ride down I turned left on Steven’s Canyon Road alongside the Steven’s Creek Reservoir and continued my descent to the McClellan Ranch Preserve in the Monta Vista neighborhood of Cupertino that still retains its rural ranch look and was one of the favorite sites our watercolor group, Saratoga Community Painters set up our easels back in the day.

It is also a famous bird-watching site and houses the headquarters of the Santa Clara Valley Audubon Society. There is a nature preserve in the middle of the park with walking paths.

I then continued on and circled the McClellan Groundwater Recharge Pond (also known as a percolation pond) which is part of the Valley’s water district. The water is derived from a portion of the Steven’s Creek Reservoir, percolates in the ground, naturally filtered as it slowly moves through the aquifer, and is pumped out to use as high-quality drinking water. The pond has a circular shaped island that looks like an abandoned ancient UFO covered by vegetation which birds love to congregate and sing (Photo).

I then hopped on a dirt and gravel path alongside the railroad tracks on the National Historic Juan Bautista De Anza Trail in Cupertino. It has become part of a five-mile pedestrian and cycling path that has been used for decades and is owned by the Union Pacific Railroad, the Santa Clara Valley Water District, and other utility companies.

I barely made it to our driveway, before my battery ran completely out of power. Five minutes later, Kyle made it back to our home for a late 2 PM vegetarian and a steak felafel lunch and a story to tell.

Merry Christmas from Our Home to Yours & an Aspirational Poem of Hope

"And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently. And the people healed. And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal. And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.”—Untitled by Kitty O’Meara (2020)

We all know it’s difficult to be Merry when so much was taken from so many during the pandemic. We have all experienced loss to varying degrees including the loss of loved ones. What I like about O’Meara’s poem is that she never mentions the word “pandemic,” and infers that something other than sadness and darkness could emerge from isolation. The bright star that has emerged in our lives as it has for many grandparents is our granddaughter Lyla who just turned two recently.She has hit the jackpot this year getting gifts for her birthday, a small gift for each of the eight days of Hanukkah (Festival of Lights) and multiple Christmas gifts.

During this holiday season, we got to babysit her, do puzzles, blow bubbles, take walks to the ponds and lake in our gated community to see the ducks and exotic birds that bless us with their grace and beauty. We sat on the wooden pedestrian bridge and watched and listened to the waterfalls. We take her to the park (now that she is 2 years old, she too is required to wear a mask), Cecile bakes cookies and cakes with her. We read books to her. She is so eager to learn and understands more than she can speak. We collected and made a little mountain of pines cones behind the cactus garden. Her curiosity inspires us and her energy keeps us energized.

Like many we had a low-keyed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Our daughter Michelle and husband Kyle and Lyla spent Christmas Eve with his mom Kim and Al Chien. We celebrated Christmas Eve quietly with our son Jason and his dog Daisy who spent the day with us. Cecile baked biscuits, we played Scrabble and as usual Jason kicked our butts. I managed to get a bike ride in, barely making it home before dark, and we ordered take out Asian Fusion cuisine and binged watched Bosch, the detective series on Amazon.

I posted some photos leading up to the holiday season. We want to thank Jason for the cozy clothing he got for his mom and the bright colored bicycle jackets he got me. Also, thank you Kim and Al for the glass wine decanter and the baked cookies, and Michelle and Kyle for the sweets. We look forward to the full family gathering at the Chiens next year. We are all so blessed.

Peace, love and light to all our friends and family.

Mindfully Biking Solo & Lunch on the Fly at "Happy Hound” that Reminds Me of a Zen Joke

"When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.”

—Arthur Conan Doyle

I slept in this morning, really slept in. By the time I arose out of bed it was near 11 AM. I could hear the critical mind calling me to task for being lazy. I worked on some projects needing attention, then decided to hit the creek trails. By this point it was near 1 PM. After riding few miles, I exited the biking trails and indulged myself with a hot dog to go from "Happy Hound." It is one of my guilty pleasures that puts a smile on my face in more ways than one. It is not only delicious, but every time I place an order at Happy Hound, I am reminded of an old Zen joke about a Zen master visiting New York City who goes to a hot dog vendor and says, “Make me one with everything.” The hot dog vendor fixes a hot dog and hands it to the Zen master, who pays with a $20 bill. The vendor puts the bill in the cash box and closes it. “Excuse me, but where’s my change?” asks the Zen master. The vendor responds, “Change must come from within.”

I have been thinking a lot about why I’m so passionate about biking. Part of it is spending time in nature, seeing places I haven’t seen before living in the Bay Area for many years, that are only accessible by bike or by foot. Despite the speed, I find myself relaxed. The body is loose, the mind clear, as I navigate the smooth and bumpy terrain. I’m in the zone. I’m in the “flow,” a focused state of mind in which action and awareness are one. It is almost impossible to be in a bad mood while riding a bike.

Hungarian-American psychologist Mihaly Csikzentmihalyi defined flow as letting go of your ego—thinking I’m good or I’m bad—when you’re having fun but you’re still in control of your movements. These days it is more commonly known as being in the state of mindfulness or the ability to be present with what is happening in the present moment.

Biking, I have come to experience over time is an active form of meditation like yoga which I have practiced for over thirty years. Mindfulness meditation is the ability to direct the mind to where you want it to go and being fully present as it is happening. If your mind wanders, just gently guide it back to your inhaling and exhaling breath and enjoy the full experience of biking and taking in all the beauty around you.

These photos were taken on the Los Gatos Creek Trails to Vasona Lake County Park and back to Campbell, CA

Remembering & Celebrating the Three Year Anniversary of our Dad's Passing

“I’d swear I heard your laughter as I gazed upon your face; that golden and contagious sound that nothing can replace. It brought back such sweet memories of how life used to be. Each picture now a time machine…that brings you back to me.”

It is true indeed, that life is like a time machine. I came across some pictures of my dad and I exploring our namesake city, St. Augustine, Florida, the oldest city in the US. I closed my eyes and there we were that long ago. It was his 80th birthday. It was my gift to him. Of course it turned out to be a gift to me as well. We shared a sleeping car on Amtrak. It was the most concentrated time I had ever spent with him. We visited the Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park, attributed to Spanish explorer Ponce de Leon representing a mythical spring of water that was known to extend life. We even bought a bottle of it. It clearly worked for you, dad, as you lived to nearly 101. As far as myself, it has yet to be determined:-)

When I was young whenever someone died, my dad was always fond of saying, “We all gotta go sometime.” It sounded fatalistic. But, the truth is, dad was a devout Catholic. He was a lay brother in his youth, though fell short of becoming a priest, which was a boon for me, as I wouldn’t be here telling this story given a priest’s vow of celibacy.

Dad, or Frank as I affectionately called him at times was a chaplain's aide in the US Army at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX, and Walter Reed Medical Hospital in Bethesda, Maryland. He used to pass the collection basket at The Church of Our Lady of Grace in Hoboken, NJ. He tended a small chapel in the store front of a storage room with a large bay window on the first floor of his five-unit apartment building I grew up in. Many passersby would stop for a few moments and bless them selves. He wasn’t preachy. He just lived his faith. In later years he became the Grand Knight of the Knights of Columbus, a fraternal organization.

At the age of 100, we revisited the subject of “death." He said: “It’s up to the man upstairs.” Teasingly I responded, "Or up to the woman upstairs." Right up to the end he received the Holy Communion wafer offered by a Eucharistic minister at his home. The Catholic faith is rooted in the belief that God made us to enjoy eternal life with him, and that death was not the end. In fact, there is an old expression that “Death takes the body. God takes the soul. Our mind holds the memories. Our heart keeps the love. Our faith lets us know we will meet again.”

Getting back to the time machine metaphor, as I looked at the photos of dad, some taken from his 75th birthday party where I arranged for an exotic dancer to entertain him and the guests who attended. It brought back such sweet memories. Frank was really a good sport.

A Trip to the Colorful Saratoga Farmer's Market: An Essential Public Service with Music & Great People Watching

“The are benefits visiting a farmers market in light of coronavirus…you’re outside, there’s fresh air moving and the supply chain is shorter.”

-Yvonne Michael, epidemiologist at Drexel University School of Public Health

One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday morning is making a trip to the farmers market.

If you are starved for human contact, even if its 6 feet or more apart, this is the place. It is a feast of the senses. The bright colors of the produce stalls, being out in the fresh air, the scent from a variety of take out food booths including, Thai, Indian, Chinese, Mexican to mention a few, There is fish and meat, a rotisserie chicken truck and vegetarian crepes. There are dried fruit and nuts, a fresh Kettle Corn booth, great for watching movies from home. I can’t leave the market without my quart of fresh squeezed orange juice. Then there is the sound of music.

There is always a musician or band playing music from different genres and cultures. This passed Saturday featured singer-songwriter Ben James and his band. Based in Santa Cruz, CA. He has performed at the Kuumba Jazz Center, Zelda’s, The Fog Bank, The Miramar, San Jose and Campbell Concert Series and was the opening act for the "Greg Kihn Band," and Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks.” James is currently working on his 5th album.

There are plethora of markets to shop at on different days of the week. The most convenient for me, is the Saratoga Farmers Market at West Valley College on Saturday morning which has 50 farmstands. Due to the pandemic, this is an evolving story. Accommodations had to be made to adhere to state and county health codes.

Safety measures employed:

Chalk mark lines and signs to encourage social distancing

Limit on people per stall

Wider market aisles to reduce crowd density

Face coverings are required

Sampling of food is suspended.

Low risk, open-air environment.

Food Traveling and handling is at a much lower rate than commerical markets.

Then, there is natural sunlight that provides a powerful, natural disinfectant and exposure to Vitamin D.

Finally, health experts tell us, as a whole, the food is actually safer from Farmer’s Markets than commercial food stores.

Based on the study published in the Journal of Food Protection, which sampled produce and animal products from 44 certified Northern California farmer’s markets including the Bay Are, lead author Alda Pires, a research scientist in the UC Davis School of Veternarian Medicine concluded that based on the data, he thinks it’s safe to consume meat and produce from farmer’s markets.

Postscript: Women may be interested in checking out Nikki’s Designer Masks (Photo)

Celebrating our Beloved Granddaughter Lyla's 2nd Birthday: A Magical Day & Magical Week

“Perfect love sometimes does not come until grandchildren are born.” -Welsh Proverb

When Cecile and I babysit Lyla a warm glow of satisfaction and joy pervades our body, mind and soul. We are grateful for the reminder that life isn’t just about work, projects, deadlines, and schedules. There is nothing like seeing the world in a simple way though the eyes of a child.

For Lyla’s birthday gift, our daughter Michelle and her husband Kyle bought her own little kitchen appliances to accompany her own little table and chairs where she sits when she doesn’t feel like sitting in her highchair. She got a fridge, freezer, sink, microwave, oven, tea set, utensils and a full assortment of pretend labeled food items like waffles, ketchup, mustard, yogurt, turkey, Swiss cheese, fresh orange juice, milk, etc.

Having baked with Nonnie (Cecile) before, she was in seventh heaven to have her own little model kitchen and was busy as a bee. She ran the show like an executive chef, and we were her sous chefs. There was even a pretend model cell phone with its own slot, and she was pretending to talk to Elmo from Sesame Street. She even pretended to call me on the phone, saying, “Hi Papa."

Cecile made her lunch, and put her down for a nap while Michelle and Kyle worked on their laptops to bring home the bacon, so to speak. When she awoke she was raring to go again. “Play!” she said.

We surprised her with an outdoor play set for her birthday, similar to what we had at our old home when our kids Jason and Michelle were young. Lyla was so excited. After climbing on top of the play structure with a little help from Kyle, she slid down the sliding pond several times, and after each time she would repeat the words, “More again!”

After she had her fill she asked me to take her to feed the next door friends (Kayvon and Bahnaz’s) full-grown flightless French ducks that she has known since they were ducklings.

We then lit a candle and inserted it on top of a cupcake, and after we all sang Happy Birthday to her she blew out the candle with great joy.

Postscript: Some of the photos were taken at the Magical Bridge Playground at Red Morton Community Park, a world renowned concept first developed in Palo Alto and made its’ debut in Redwood City on December 1. The nearly 1-acre Playground was developed at the cost of $6.8 million with $3.3 million coming from the fundraising efforts by the Magical Bridge Foundation that includes donors like The Chang Zuckerberg Initiative.

Pausing to Capture this Fiery Sunset and Brilliant Twilight Afterglows While Cycling

"Sunsets are proof that no matter what happens, every day can end beautifully.”

-Kristen Butler

The day got away from me yesterday. I debated whether or not to ride my bike at 4:30 PM, so close to the sun going down here in heart of Silicon Valley in Northern California. I pushed the envelope, but it would be worth it I told myself, believing I would make i home before dark. The bike ride itself along the protected nature trails nearby would have been enough.

I was almost home, when I noticed this fiery fall sunset. I pulled over on University Avenue that overlooks Vasona Lake County Park, and then again on the busy Winchester Boulevard as cars whizzed by to photograph this eye-catching sunset. The darker it became the more intense the colors bled, especially over the Santa Cruz Mountains.

There is this phrase often used by Michele Macdonald, one of my esteemed meditation teachers while at on retreat at a monastery in Myanmar. “Just This!” she would say. It is a reference to abiding in the present moment.

Everyone at one time or another has marveled at the beautiful red and orange colors of a sunrise or sunset on vacation, but few of use take the time or make the effort to position themselves to witness a sunset in more urban environments.

The brilliant twilight “afterglows” are the best and often last only minutes as the sun sets below the mountains.

My sister Josephine gave me a gift for my birthday in 1994 accompanied by a wallet-sized card that referred to my given name:

"Dennis [Greek Origin] that means “A Worshipper.”

It is followed by a passage from Psalms: 139:13, 14

“It was you that created me. For the wonder of myself, for the wonder of your works, I thank you.”

I still keep that card in my wallet to this day as a reminder of a way of connecting with something greater than myself.

Happy Birthday to Our Much Loved Daughter Michelle

“The more you praise and celebrate life, the more there is in life to celebrate.”

-Oprah Winfrey

“Pleased to look forward, pleased to look behind, and count each birthday with a grateful mind."

-Alexander Pope

Dearest Michelle,

Out of 364 days of the calendar year, it’s the only one you can proudly call your own. Honor it! Embrace it! Celebrate it! It is the day you were born. Your very existence has built relationships. Two people became your loving parents (yeah!), your brother Jason became a sibling and older brother. Over time friendships were born. You became a classmate, a colleague, a lover, a mother and a wife. One birth over time created so many events, so many opportunities, so many causes to celebrate and feel alive.

A Precious Daughter

From the moment you were born,

We knew what love was all about.

We loved you more than anything,

Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The bond we felt was unbreakable

And instantly we knew,

We would spend a lifetime thanking the Universe

For the miracle that was you.

With every year that passes,

You are more special than before.

Through every stage and every age,

We have come to love you ever more.

No words can describe the fond memories,

The heartfelt pride, joy, and gratitude too.

That comes from having a daughter,

To love and cherish…just like you!

But since you were also blessed with baby Lyla.

You know first hand the depth of a parent’s love,

We will always have your back,

Whether from here or from up above.

Michelle, your mom and I wish you a peaceful and joyful Birthday.

Photo memory: On the Crown Princess with our Crown Princess, Skagway, Alaska 1999

A Blessed Thanksgiving Meal with Gratitude for All the People Known and Unknown Who Made it Possible

A Blessed Thanksgiving Meal with Gratitude for All the People Known and Unknown Who Made it Possible

“Innumerable beings brought us this food. We should know how it comes to us.”

Another wonderful Thanksgiving gathering at our daughter’s mother-in-law Kim’s and husband Al Chien’s lovely home. Though the size of the event was half of what it would normally be were it not for the pandemic. Still, a good time was had by all.

Besides our hosts, our son Jason, daughter Michelle, her husband Kyle and our granddaughter Lyla, andKyle’s brother Chip, Cecile and myself were present. Before our meal, we congregated around Kim and Al’s new Kitchen having appetizers, wine and cocktails. Lyla who will be 2 years old soon was entertaining us with her yoga poses (downward dog) and trying on oversized oven gloves for her tiny hands.

Before our meal and the blessing we reflected on the effort that brought us this food we were about to nourish ourselves with and consider how it makes it’s way onto our plates. The food of course doesn’t grow and cook itself. There are cooks; there are farmers who plant, grow, harvest; and package the food, before being transported to the markets. A meal is the culmination of countless labors.

Suddenly, you realize your meal becomes an act of communion with vast numbers of people, known and unknown to whom we should extend our gratitude. People whom we will never see, never know by name, never meet, yet without them there would never be anything on our plates.

To make this point more vividly, Brother David Stendl-Rast, a Catholic Benedictine monk, teacher, author, and founder of the Network for Grateful Living, whom I had the pleasure and honor of meeting at Esalen Institute in Big Sur back in the day, tells a story. It’s about a wonderful cartoon where a Mexican family sits around the Thanksgiving table and says, “Thank you, Jesus.” Suddenly a cloud bubble appears in the cartoon and here comes a farm worker, whose name happens to be "Hesus,” Spanish for Jesus, who smilingly says, “Da Nada” (thank you).

So, all the farm workers, with the help of other people, our animals, our plants, minerals from the earth, and with the Great Mystery in which we are imbedded, which those who use the term correctly call “God.” It’s not somebody up there. It’s more personal than that…It is this tremendous mystery that we are totally informed by, related to, that makes us both human and spiritual beings.

In the spirit of the Thanksgiving holiday season leading up through the end of the year let’s be Grateful:

1-For the food on our tables and how it got here.

2-For all who collectively prepared the food.

3-For the Food banks feeding the hungry who have fallen on hard times

4-For the clothes on our backs

5-For all the front line essential workers

6-And, last but not least for the great scientists and physicians who created the coronavirus vaccines that will soon be available to all.

Postscript: Some of the above teachings were adapted from a Ted talk by Brother David Stendl-Rast that has been viewed five-million times. Now in his 90s, he is beloved by many around the world. Together with the late Trappist Monk Thomas Merton, they pioneered dialogue between Christians and Buddhists. The quote below the title of this post is a Buddhist prayer said before a meal cited by Brother David.