each bounce different

Last week I made a decision to hike the Laguna Lake trail seven days in a row. This followed a conversation on Zoom with my Zen teacher. I began Saturday, today will be my third hike.

I was not and am not worried about repetition as ‘sameness.’ The ancient Japanese master Dogen said, “Tonight’s moon is not last night’s moon.” When I was a kid an old man named Mr. Baker would walk past my house and yard every day. Wearing the same hat, holding a cigar. But I would be different for him, playing catch by myself, throwing and bouncing a tennis ball off our slanting roof, one day over to the left and having to run that way to catch it, one day higher and needing to move back for that rebound. One day standing still, stupefied, so alive, so young. Each moment, never before, bursting forth, passing on.

Each Laguna Lake hike, never before, bursting forth, passing on. Like my mother – Irene Mercedes Costa, never before, bursting forth, passing on. Like Jorge’s dog Princess, never before, bursting forth, passing on. Like a rain storm. Bursting forth, never before, passing on.

Saturday, insane wind. Do rattlesnakes mind the wind? Does the wind mind rattlesnakes?. Sunday a gaggle of young girls with their leaders, on bicycles, sharing the path, nudging me off into the brown grass.