I was at Garland Park in Carmel Valley on a warm overcast day. Hiked up to see the waterfall. On the way a deer crossed my path in a calm way focused on things to eat. Walked past meadows of bright lupin and blue eyed grass.
There were oaks and bay laurels with old man's beard hanging from them like a Tim Burton Film set. Many five leaved buckeyes starting to flower, and a hawk crying overhead.
Heard the lilting song of a bird hidden in the leaves of a nearby tree. It revealed itself briefly, but still couldn't identify it. It was a type of wren.
It sang. I repeated in my limited human lipped whistling way. It taught me its song.
Was attracted to stop by a glorious growth of flowering fillerie, with their infinite fractal leaves at the foot of a series of arched oaks that stretched into the forest.
A beautiful and healing day of what the Japanese call "forest bathing".