I’m happy to announce the appearance of my new book, How Can Anyone Read the Bible? It’s intended for all sorts of people who want to read the Bible and are perhaps daunted by its size and complexity. It should be helpful, too, to people who have read or heard a fair amount of the Bible already, but want to acquire a better grasp of how the bits they know fit together in such a varied and complex collection of writings. Whether your interest arises from religious faith or intellectual curiosity or some combination of the two, you’ll find some assistance here.
The book is part of a new series from Church Publishing—”Little Books of Guidance”—that offer brief and basic introductions to all sorts of theological and ethical questions. I’m delighted to be part of this new project. The book is dedicated to to all those who have been part of the lively series of monthly scripture studies I have been leading for the past few years at Good Shepherd, Berkeley. They have helped me envisage the larger audience for which I’ve written this book.
The Bible stands as a great classic of religious faith, spiritual teaching, and world literature. But the fact that it was created over a period of about a thousand years and includes many different types of writing and perspectives can make it difficult for readers to orient themselves. This little book aims particularly to help in that process. It has sections on getting started and on the kinds of writings you can expect to find. I also suggests a variety of paths you can follow while getting acquainted with the Bible.
I hope it will prove useful both to individuals and to study groups. And it is on sale at a very good price just now at Cokesbury.
Uncategorized
CELEBRATING THE RAINS
The garden has been celebrating our rainy winter and spring in grand fashion . . .
White cyclamens under the bench:
A splash of iris and ranunculus:
A flower on the tree peony:
Flowers on the cymbidium orchid that our friend Scott Hrudicka gave us:
Another orchid (don’t know what kind) flowering under the wisteria:
And a bonus from my sister Wanda’s garden:
A VERY DIFFERENT TAKE ON ELIJAH AND THE MERCY OF GOD
What follows here is a translation of a long poem by a great saint of the Eastern Church who lived in the sixth century. It can be seen as his commentary on the internecine warfare among Christians in his day and on the dangers of a religious zeal that has not understood the true nature of God. The translation is based on the text edited by Paul Maas and my teacher, Constantine A. Trypanis: Sancti Romani Melodi Cantica: Cantica Genuina (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1963).
ST. ROMANOS THE MELODE, KONTAKION ON ELIJAH translated by L. Wm. Countryman revised 12/7/2016 Proem: Foreseer and foreteller of the great deeds of our God, Elijah of great name—you that halted by your mere word the water-filled clouds— intercede for us with the only Lover of humankind. 1: Seeing the great lawlessness of people and God's great love of humankind, the prophet Elijah shook with passion and stirred up words without compassion against the Compassionate One, shouting, "Get angry, Most Righteous Judge, with the people who mock your authority!" But not in the least did he stir the Good God's mercies toward punishing those who ignored him. For God is always waiting for the conversion of all— the only Lover of humankind. 2: When the prophet saw the whole earth in its transgressions and the Most High not altogether angry but remaining patient, he was moved to madness. He calls the Merciful One to witness: "I'll take the authority myself and punish the impiety of these people who are making you angry! For these people have all scorned your prolonged patience. They've not regarded you as a merciful Father. But you, the Lover of children, pity your sons, you the only Lover of humankind. 3: "Now I'll give judgment on behalf of the Creator and wipe out the impious from the earth. I'll cast the vote for punishment. But I fear the divine goodness. For it takes only a few tears to make the Lover of humankind back off. How, then, am I to counteract so much goodness? Aha! I'll put a stop to mercy by confirming my judgment with an oath, so that the Righteous One, shamed by this, will not undo such a decision but confirm my judgment as the Rule, the only Lover of humankind." 4: The oath takes precedence over the judgment—becomes the preamble for the sentence. But, if you like, let's hurry to the book and learn the words. For the prophet says in anger, as it is written, "As the Lord lives, no dew or rain will come down except by my word." But at once the King answered Elijah, "If I see conversion and tears welling up, I cannot refuse to offer compassion to the people—I the only Lover of humankind." 5: At once the prophet speaks up and urges the justice of the oath: "Against you," he says, "the God of all, I have sworn, All-holy Master, against rains being given except by my word. When I see the people transformed, I'll intercede with you. So you see, it's not in your authority, Most Righteous One, to undo the punishment from the oath I've taken. Respect the oath. Put your seal to it. Pull in your compassion, you the only Lover of humankind." 6: So famine laid siege to the land, and the inhabitants were being destroyed, wailing and stretching out their hands to the All-Merciful. But the Master was hemmed in on all sides by these events. God opened his compassion to his supplicants and moved quickly toward mercy, but he is embarrassed for the prophet and the oath he swore—and gives no rain. But he contrived a pretext, constraining and tormenting the prophet's soul— the only Lover of humankind. 7: The Master, seeing the Tishbite puffed up against the people of his own tribe, decided to punish the righteous man with famine alongside the rest, so that, wrung by lack of food, he might think more kindly about his sworn sentence and halt the punishment. Dreadful indeed is the stomach's inexorable demand, and God keeps watch over every living thing, rational and irrational alike, with divine wisdom by providing food— the only Lover of humankind. 8: The stomach defended nature and secretly applied its laws, practicing on the old man to produce change. But he, like a stone, remained unfeeling, possessed of zeal instead of any food—and content with that. When the Judge saw it, he tempered the distress to his starving friend, not thinking it just for the just man to starve with the unjust and lawless— the only Lover of humankind. 9: So the All-Merciful prepares food for him with surpassing wisdom, for he orders the ravens, creatures without compassion, to take him his food. Now the tribes of the raven have not a particle of compassion. They don't bring food even to their nestling children, which are fed from heaven. And since Elijah had taken on the manners and purpose of a hater of children, God used these child-hating ravens to minister to this misanthrope. How wise of the only Lover of humankind! 10: "Let not your great love of the divine" (God spoke with Elijah) "give you a misanthropic disposition. Consider the ravens: they are always hostile even to their own nestlings. Suddenly, as you see, they're quite generous with you; they're transformed now. They've revealed themselves to be servants of my compassion in providing you with food. But as I perceive, I cannot forcibly change your nature toward people, I the only Lover of humankind. 11: "Only show some respect, prophet, and imitate the ready obedience of the irrational animals, transformed at once, merciless though they are, out of respect for me, the Compassionate. I honor your friendship, and I am not overruling your decision. But I cannot bear the lamenting and tribulation everywhere among the people I have made. How am I to endure the wailing of infants and their tears, yes, and the speechless bellowing of the beasts as well? For I suffer with them all as their Shaper, the only Lover of humankind." 12: At these words, the prophet went wild—and answered the Master, "Don't send the raven servants to feed me, O Master. I would rather be destroyed by famine, All-Holy One. I will still punish the impious, and it will give me surcease. I don't hesitate to die along with those who reject you. Don't pity me. Don't spare me as I starve. Just wipe the impious out of the land, you the only Lover of humankind." 13: The Creator, honoring these words, transfers the prophet from that place, commanding the birds not to bring him food as before. He sends him to Sarephtha, to the starving widow, saying, "I'll tell a woman to feed you." God was hatching a clever plan. For the woman to whom God sent him was a widow and a Gentile—and she had children to care for. Hearing the gentile woman's name, Elijah would cry out, "Send the rains, you the only Lover of humankind." 14: It was not at all permitted at the time for Jews to eat with people of other nations. This is why God was sending Elijah off to a foreigner, so that, revolted by the food she offered, he would immediately demand rain from the Lover of humankind. But Elijah did not make an issue of his exile among the Gentiles. He runs right up to the woman, asking food of her in a completely rude way: "I'm ordered to collect what you owe, woman, to God the only Lover of humankind." 15: But hearing this, the widow quickly answered the prophet, "I don't have so much as a biscuit—just a handful of flour. I'm going indoors to bake it and eat it with my children. Beyond my handful of flour there lies only death." But Elijah was moved by the woman's voice and felt sympathy with her, thinking, "This widow is more wasted than I and suffering in the famine—unless God does something, the only Lover of humankind. 16: "Now her situation oppresses me. If I am hungry, I'm on my own. But the widow with whom I find myself is starving with her children. Let me not, as guest, become ambassador of this woman's death. Let me not be reckoned a child-murderer in this hospitable house. Let me look toward mercy now. Though I behave hostilely to all people, with this woman I am different. I'll get my soul used to taking pleasure in mercies. After all, the Cause of all things is merciful, the only Lover of humankind." 17: The prophet answered the widow, "You have, as you say, a handful of flour and the jug you keep it in will not run out. And the flask of oil will keep bubbling forth." With such words, Elijah gave a blessing, and the Creator, generous and merciful, at once added to his words the deed itself. The All-Wise spoke, fulfilling the prophet's intent, and, undertaking what is truer than the most beautiful of words, bestowed on the widow great bounty— the only Lover of humankind. 18: God bowed to the prophet's words and provided food for him and the widow. But Elijah was not wholly given to compassion, but remained unbending. And when the Compassionate One saw the people being destroyed and the prophet refusing to obey, God, being just, moved on to another, wholly wise device. God presented the widow's son as dead so that, once he saw the widow's tears and the rest of her situation, Elijah might call out, "Give the rains, only Lover of humankind." 19: When the widow saw her son dead, she rose up against the prophet, saying, "I wish I had died of the famine before I laid eyes on you! For it would have been better for me to have been long dead of starvation and not seen my son laid out in your presence. Are these the wages of the beautiful reception I gave you? I was replete with children before you came, fellow. But you came and left me childless with all your talk of the only Lover of humankind." 20: The man who held power over clouds and rain found himself in a widow's grip; the man who constrained all people with a word was held back by one woman. And an utterly wretched woman, without a shred of power, grasps this man who thought he grasped the heavens by word and power—grasps him like a criminal. With a crazy wrestling hold, she dragged him like a murderer into court, shouting out, "Give me the child you killed! I don't need your flour! Don't feed me and play host, you 'only Lover of humankind.' 21: "You sowed bread in my belly, and my womb's fruit and branch you uprooted. You sold me edible gifts <at the price of my son>. You worked out your little scheme: a life for some flour and oil. But I'm suing you to overturn the contract and give back what you took. Are you not satisfied with the deaths of your own people that you were so eager to get a grip on my household? Release my son's soul! Take mine instead of his! And become a Lover of humankind." 22: Elijah was pierced by these words as if they were thorns. He was ashamed to have the screaming widow browbeating him as if he had himself wrenched away her son's life. Though he wanted to appease her, he could not do it with words. He knew she would not believe him if he defended himself, for she was weeping without pause. But looking into heaven, the blameless witness cried out, "Alas, Lord, for this woman who accepted me as her house mate. It's you that's stirred her up to demand the child of me, you the only Lover of humankind. 23: "I don't believe, all-powerful Savior," the prophet cried to God, "that death has befallen this child in the course of nature, as it comes to all. This is the device of your wisdom, Sinless One; you've engineered against me a merciful necessity so that when I ask you, 'Raise up the widow's dead son,' you can answer me straightway, 'Pity my son Israel, now in torment—and all my people,' for you are the only Lover of humankind." 24: Wanting to save the land, the All-Merciful quickly answered Elijah, "Hearken now quite clearly to my words and hear me as I speak. I lament and am eager for an end of the punishment. My deep wish is to give food to all the starving, for truly I am compassionate. When I see their streams of tears, I am pulled down like a father. I have pity on those drained by want and tribulation. For I want to save sinners through conversion— the only Lover of humankind. 25: "So listen, prophet, with an open heart and mind. I am truly eager for you to know that all humans beings carry with them the signed warrant of my mercy, the document of my covenant—that I don't want to behold the death of those who sing off-key, but rather their life. So don't make them see me as a liar. Instead, accept my prayer. I give you an embassy. Only the widow's tears have touched you. But I am, for all of them, truly Lover of humankind." 26: Mind and will and ears, then, Elijah subjected to the words of the Most High and submitted his soul and decked it with words and said, "Your will be done, Master. Bring both the rains and life for the dead boy. Bring all things to life. God, you are life and resurrection and redemption. Give your grace to humans and to animals. For you alone can save all things, the only Lover of humankind." 27: As soon as the prophet said these things, the Merciful One answered him, "I accept your decision and I praise it—and I am quick to honor you. On their behalf, I accept the grace from you; but be, yourself, the mediator and conduct the chorus of my grace. For I cannot bear to be reconciled without you. But go and announce the gift of the rains so that all may cry aloud, 'The one who used to be merciless has now suddenly proved to be, for all, a Lover of humankind.' 28: "Go quickly, then, prophet! Appear to Ahab and tell the good news while I give orders to the clouds to give drink to the land with their waters. Make known the provision of these things, my friend, and I'll confirm your announcements and honor your cooperation." As soon as he heard this, he bowed low to the Most High and cried to the Merciful One, "I know you as having great mercy. I recognize that you are truly generous, my God, the only Lover of humankind." 29: Reverencing the command, then, the prophet runs to Ahab and declares good news to him as the Compassionate One said. And at once the clouds, at their Maker's behest, big with water, swam through the air, gushing with the rains. And the land rejoiced and glorified the Lord. The woman received her boy, risen from death. With all things, the land delighted and blessed the only Lover of humankind. 30: And still, as time passed, Elijah saw the evil of humanity and took it in mind to issue a sentence of heavier punishment. And when the Compassionate One saw it, he answered the prophet, "The zeal you have for righteousness I understand; and I know your intention. But I feel with sinners when they're punished beyond measure. You get angry, blameless as you are, and you cannot endure it. But me! I cannot endure for any to be destroyed, I the only Lover of humankind." 31: Then, when the Master saw how severe Elijah was toward human beings, he took thought for our race and separated him from the earth: "Come away, my friend, from the dwelling of humanity, and I'll go down to them in compassion, having become human myself. Come up, then, from the earth, since you cannot endure their stumblings, but I, the Heavenly One, will be with sinners and rescue them from those stumblings, I the only Lover of humankind. 32: "If, as I've said, O prophet, you cannot live with people who sound wrong notes, come over here and inhabit the sinless territories of my friends. And I—strong enough to carry the strayed sheep on my shoulders—I'll go down and call to the stumbling, 'All you sinners running at full speed, come to me and rest. For I have come not to punish those whom I have made, but to snatch them back from their irreverence, the only Lover of humankind.'" 33: And so, you see, Elijah, taken up to heaven, was revealed as the pattern of things to come. The Tishbite was taken up on a chariot of fire, as it is written, and Christ was taken up with clouds and powers. And Elijah dropped his sheepskin cloak to Elisha from the heights, and Christ sent down to his own apostles the Comforter, the Holy One, whom we all received when we were baptized and through whom we are being made holy. So teaches the only Lover of humankind.
BACK TO THE STEPPES
All right, I know you’re still glued to the news of political disaster. I agree that the signals Mr. Trump is sending by means of his initial appointments confirm many of the worst features of his campaign. Bigots and obscurantists seem to hold prominent places among them. But it’s not conducive to mental health to think of nothing else. A broad view of history can actually help produce a broader perspective. The long story of the Eurasian steppe has plenty of disasters in it, but contributed some great things to humanity at large. And the book I write about here is guaranteed to fascinate any enthusiast for history, archaeology, and/or geography.
I wrote a few weeks ago about the beautiful and fascinating book Steppes from the Denver Botanic Gardens, which provides a sweeping overview of the terrain and plant life of the world’s diverse semi-arid steppe regions, one of which turned out to be the Great Plains where I grew up. But the first region to be known by that name was the vast plain that stretches from Hungary across Eurasia as far as Mongolia without any decisive interruption to prohibit movement across it. This is a region that has lurked in the shadows in most books on ancient and medieval history—a relatively unknown place from which vast numbers of mounted warriors occasionally erupted to create havoc in the more settled, “civilized” areas of Europe and Asia.
Another recent book sheds an enormous amount of light on this obscure world: Barry Cunliffe’s By Steppe, Desert, and Ocean: The Birth of Eurasia (Oxford University Press, 2015). It represents an ambitious pulling together of geographical, archeological, and historical knowledge to provide the first reasonably coherent account I have encountered of that world. Before this book, one met its peoples fleetingly at moments when they impinged (often violently) on the Fertile Crescent or the European heartland or China—or else as the idolsyrf inmates of ancient tombs excavated over the last century, who could only be tentatively identified with one or another group known from historical references.
The story has deep roots. The horse was first domesticated in the steppes. It was also the place where wheeled vehicles came into their own, both because of the flat terrain and because its people needed to move with their herds to take advantage of the best pastures. In addition to their horses, they acquired sheep, goats, and cattle from the Fertile Crescent (which bought horses in turn from them). And they became a primary vector for the spread of metallurgy, which arose in the mountains of Turkey and the Balkans. Far from being merely a problem population on the borders of settled farming cultures, they formed a principal link of communication and exchange among the emerging centers of settled life.
The history of what we call the “Silk Road” began much earlier than supposed and those routes transported ideas and people as well as merchandise—first through the steppe, then also through the deserts to the south of them as the Bactrian camel was added to the selection of domesticated animals.
The people of the steppe disturbed surrounding, settled cultures for a variety of reasons, one being periods of drought that forced groups in one or another part of the steppe to seek new pastures, thereby displacing neighbors, who displaced other neighbors and so on. Another factor was the increasing power of China at the eastern end of the steppe. Cunliffe suggests that the Great Wall was not a purely defensive endeavor as usually supposed, but an aggressive move into the steppe itself. It was part of a long seesawing of dominance between China and the neighboring steppe peoples, which could send shock waves all the way to Europe.
Over time, the increasing importance of maritime traffic—linking the Black Sea steppe to the Mediterranean, India to the Near East, and eventually Atlantic Europe to the Far East—was the final step in creating a new global awareness. It had the incidental effect of reducing the role the steppe had held for so long.
This is a fascinating book that will no doubt become the foundation for much further questioning and investigation. It finally begins to give one of the important chapters in our human cultural history its due.
MATINS 3: PRAYING WITH THE PSALMS
artwork from the collection of the British Museum
A GARDEN SHOWS ITS GRATITUDE FOR THE RAINS
After twelve days of cold, stormy weather, the sun has come out again; and it’s a day to inspect the garden. I find a little damage: one basket of orchids (I don’t know what they are, but they have small purple flowers in late winter and early spring) was blown from its moorings. It’s gotten very heavy over the years, as one small plant morphed into quite a mass of foliage; and the storm winds exerted enough force on it to pull its wire hook straight and send it and its resident ant colony plummeting into the plants below.
It has a younger clone in another hanging basket, where it was protected from the winds, but not from the scrub jays,. They have ripped out almost all of the wire basket’s coconut fiber lining—I suppose for nest material. What’s left is some bedraggled little plants hanging on for dear life among the remnants and a lot of orchid bark littering the ground below—one of many things to tend to now that the weather favors getting into the garden again!
Of course, the weeds have also taken advantage of the weeder’s cowardly retreat during the storms. On the whole, however, the garden seems to be showing nothing but enthusiastic gratitude. The wisteria flowers are just emerging, even as the elegant blossoms of the quince tree are fading. But bulbs are providing the primary show. There are little species tulips in yellow, orange, and red. There are red freesias. There are ranunculus in reds, pinks, and yellows.
And one of our winter pleasures continues into spring. White cyclamens that came to us as Christmas plants over the years have found homes to their liking, a larger-flowered one in a back corner, but visible from the house, and three tiny ones in the shade of the garden bench.
Our garden’s guage this season (starting from September) has measured about 28″ of rain—a good sum even for a whole rainy season, though we still hope for more after years of drought. The surprising thing is how quickly the plants have responded. The most extreme example is the octopus agave, the last of a group that we planted here soon after we
moved, probably in 1999. It has decided that its time has come and is throwing its all into reproducing this year. In less than five weeks, its flower stalk has reached as high as our second-floor windows. I expect it will grow a little taller before it wraps itself in a spiral of yellow flowers.
Since I am far from the really capable sort of gardener who can actually predict results, I get the benefit of experiencing every spring’s successes as a kind of marvel. “Oh, hey, it actually worked!” Although I would like to feel more competent, I’m not sure I want to give up that element of surprise.
SONNETS FOR MARY: THE MARRIAGE AT CANA (JOHN 2:1-11)
I like this painting because Jesus and Mary are tiny figures far in the back. You would never notice them if it weren’t that they have auras around their heads. The scene is all bustle and confusion. But, as with virtually all portrayals of the story, the water jars are far too small.
Tintoretto: Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15542127
SONNETS FOR MARY: THE VISITATION (Luke 1:39-56)
INTRODUCING “SONNETS TO MARY”
I’ll shortly begin adding to this blog some sonnets I’ve written for St. Mary. Advent, with Christmas quickly approaching, is a good time to reflect on her—on Mary of Nazareth, the Blessed Virgin, the God-Bearer, the Mother of God, Our Lady, the Queen of Heaven or by whatever title you know her. She has been a bone of contention, of course, between Roman Catholics and Protestants, with Anglicans caught, as often, somewhat uncomfortably in the middle. I find myself drawn to the long tradition of honoring her while also put off by many aspects of it. The problem, for me, is that her exaltation long ago seems to have passed the point where she could still seem authentically human.
The tradition certainly does recognize her human emotions of joy and sorrow. But what about our human capacity for uncertainty? Like other saints, Mary has been magnified into a paragon of dedication and commitment—one who mastered faith, hope, and love from the get-go. She had never a shadow of doubt, we are led to think—no questioning as to whether all this was really true, whether she had comprehended it correctly, whether God was really involved with her life in a way so completely unimaginable.
I took it as a gift, then, when, a few years ago, Nancy Kerr and I, in our ongoing project of reading Greek together, took up St. Romanos’s great kontakion (verse sermon) on Mary at the Cross. Romanos, a sixth-century deacon in Constantinople and a brilliant poet, was deeply devoted to Mary, but that created no difficulty to him in portraying her uncertainty and fear. In his poetry, she is the focus of the greatest mystery in all of creation, the incarnation. In her womb, God and humanity have become indissolubly united. She is a figure beyond our common humanity by virtue of this link which she was instrumental in creating. At the same, she is one with the rest of us in her inability to know the future or to enjoy a level of certainty that is in fact beyond our finite human condition.
It is this finite, even sometimes anxious Mary who is, at the same time, the sanctuary of God’s incarnate mystery that moves me mostly deeply. And I have tried to capture bits and pieces of her portrait in this series of sonnets addressed to her. They’ll be appearing at intervals on this blog over the next couple of months; and since they don’t represent quite the conventional approach to the saint, I thought this brief introduction might be useful to those interested enough to listen to them.
[For those who are interested, the kontakion I mentioned is no. 19 in the edition by Karl Maas and my teacher C. A. Trypanis. It begins To;n di j hJma'” staurwqevnta deu’te pavnte” uJmnhvswmen, “Come, let us all hymn the one crucified for us . . . ” In the Sources Chrétiennes edition, it is volume 4, number 35.]
SHOWING OFF THE BAY AREA
Those of us who live in one of the world’s tourism areas commonly observe that we don’t visit the local attractions because, after all, they’re always there and we can do it some other day. Out-of-town visitors provide the principal impetus for us to break out of our rut and see more of where we live. A visit from brother Dan and his wife Ginger gave us just that opportunity this past week and provided us with the excuse for a vacation at home.
It’s not easy to narrow down the attractions of the Bay Area to six days, particularly if you don’t want to exhaust a group of people who are all over 60. So we got a list from them of their desiderata and put in a few of our own. Things started off on a Saturday afternoon with a car tour of Oakland, where we live, including Lake Merritt, of course, and one of our own favorites, Middle Harbor Park. This is a shoreline park with a great view of San Francisco wedged into the Port of Oakland. The port itself, with its huge cranes for handling container ships (said to be the inspiration for the giant walkers in Star Wars) looms at either end; but the park stretches far enough along the shore to have its own sense of open air and holiday within sight of the working world.
Jon treated our guests to a Sunday morning car tour of San Francisco, including a drive down the twisty part of Lombard Street. They also visited Bernard Maybeck’s great Palace of Fine Arts, Alamo Square with its “painted lady” Victorian houses, and the Presidio with its view of the Golden Gate. The afternoon we devoted to a walking tour of our neighborhood, which has several excellent restaurants and interesting shops.
On Monday, we braved the (welcome) showers to visit the two big San Francisco cathedrals that form such a contrast to each other. Both are impressive, but Grace is Episcopal and Gothic while St. Mary’s is Roman Catholic and ‘sixties modern. The architectural contrast is about more than simply design. The Gothic style is interested in detail and diversity, in out-of-the way nooks and crannies, in things that cannot quite be seen but only glimpsed and half-imagined. The modern style of the sixties is much more unitary. There is relatively little of individual interest, but rather a single centralized space dominated by its concrete canopy. Both style make an impression. My own taste votes for the quirkiness of the Gothic, at least for a sacred building. A late lunch at the Cliff House rounded out the morning. The sun had come out. There were a few surfers down below on Ocean Beach. And the food was good—in fact, a great deal better than one has any right to expect at such a spectacular location.
Tuesday was focused on Muir Woods, a place almost as impossible to describe as it is to photograph. There is hardly any way to convey the height of the ancient trees in a forest of coast redwoods. The place is damp and cool and relatively quiet, even with so many visitors. And there is no place else on earth quite like these forests, though the karri trees of Western Australia have a majesty that comes close.
Wednesday was Alcatraz day. The trip there requires advance planning, since tickets sell out quickly. A ferry takes you to the island, where you can then wander pretty much at will till the last ferry leaves for San Francisco in the late afternoon. The walk uphill to the penitentiary proper is good exercise. On the way, you pass the ruins of earlier incarnations of the place, beginning with its role as fortress defending the Golden Gate in the 1850s and prison for Confederate sympathizers in the 1860s.
Neither Jon nor I had been to Alcatraz before. I had read about the rehabilitation of the gardens, and they were indeed rewarding. Even in the quiet garden time of November, they were still interesting and attractive with their variety of succulents. And the views from the island are incomparable. Even the prison itself proved more interesting than we expected, given that neither of us is an aficionado of “true crime.”
Thursday, we all went to Napa, where my sister Wanda has a small vineyard called “Miller’s Pond” in the Coombsville AVA. The day included a drive to St. Helena and lunch at the wonderful Farmstead restaurant, where much of the food is grown onsite. We tasted wine at one winery on the way back from lunch while Dan, who prefers beer, waited patiently until that particular bit of the trip was done with. Then a visit to Whole Foods for the ingredients of a light supper at Wanda’s farm.
At that point Ginger announced that she had been able to check off everything on the list of what she had most wanted to see, which gave us Friday as a day devoted mostliy to rest and recovery—with lunch at Zachary’s Pizza, a Rockridge mainstay.
It was a vacation for us, I think, as much as for Dan and Ginger. It’s even taken us a couple of days to “re-enter” our routines, much as if we had been somewhere far away for that time.