“Your home is within yourself, not in other people.” — Najwa Zebian — clean out the cobwebs shake out the dust beat the rugs scrub the mugs open the curtains like you mean business after years of lost wander in halls of funhouse mirrors let your sun shine IN let self doubt scurry like fat lice from light… slide windows open prop doors ajar burn sage, clear the…

Startled by a potential stalker in a minivan on a detour south of SF. — On the climb up to Fort Funston San Francisco’s hustle-bustle behind, we detour around drifts deep of tire-sucking sands. A dark minivan slows behind me. I eye it in my mirror, wary. Until, right beside me, a gravelly voice calls, “I love you!” I jump in my saddle, my wheels wobble, I see no help in sight. Just keep pedaling, don’t…

We ignore our own needs when we’re taught we aren’t important. — A large man walks on a sidewalk stands tall, looks ahead focused on a phone oblivious to a tiny puppy attached to a short leash — drug behind up and down curbs heels dug in nails powerless confused no voice. Ignored. I used to be that man. …

Scavengers find tasty lunches wrapped in drying grasses. Passed by trucks hauling silage — fresh grass for cows — mowed today. Air fills with sweet from fields of heaps. Sky fills with swift wings — vultures on the hunt amid piles and rows. …

Lavender vines blossom poetic. Everything humans dream already exists beyond Sapien imagination. We can’t help it, our brains provoked consciously subconsciously constantly — like a poet who scribes a new line then finds accidental plagiarism in the rhyme. A morning glory glows purple, lays variegated stripes to guide hungry pollinators. Unwittingly, its blossom inspires changeable taffeta fabric, cable dish antennas, and Georgia O’Keefe, all before breakfast. Ingenuity often runs…

Freeways give passengers fleeting glimpses into strangers’ lives — Opposites of front yards with their presumed display for all to see and ponder, backyards are private spaces of illusory control of who has access. What’s in a backyard is out of sight, until it’s seen. Like a closed door like underwear like the trunk of an old car like a junk drawer like what’s under…

Layover in Vallejo for bicycle repair offers sneak peek into the lives of city dwellers. Last thing I expected to find in that East Bay city neighborhood block… Like alley cats they hop fences or squat and squeeze under, in search, endless search, the entire block open territory. This yard offers prime dust —…

After weeks embedded in nature, we arrive in San Francisco. — Nature’s immensity makes humankind puny powerless overwhelmed afraid lost in the landscape-invisible of alone. Nature inspires spirits to surmount with will, with endurance with lives on the line. Urban immensity a people powered overwhelm, sees us lost in the crowds, invisible despite masses. It triggers awe — humans made that? …

Wisdom from a friend’s words, knee-deep in grief. — To walk with grief is a tightrope act suspended above once-known befores. Most days are a struggle on a high wire, no net. Deeply difficult days are skywalks strung between clouds. Others move steady like a suspension bridge a-sway on a wind. What one might call ‘good’ days are a tip toe along a child’s chalk…