Thursday, November 22, 2007
I don't celebrate often enough the wonderful land in which I live, the hilly trails where I run when my tired feet let me.
On the coast in the Marin Headlands (part of the Golden National Recreation Area) rocky coves hide where the mountains plunge into the sea.
Hawks -- many turkey vultures actually, but there are redtails too -- soar on the thermals looking for dinner.
This guy tries to blend in with an old asphalt road and almost succeeds.
A doe checks out the slow moving intruder.
While the gentleman of the family decides the runner can't possibly disturb their grazing.