With nowhere to go – considering the relentless fires all around the bay area, I felt extremely sad when I woke up Saturday and scrolled through the local news, about the parks, the redwoods, the animals, the air, and all things in distress due to the fires we have yet to contain in northern California.
Twenty-twenty has topped one of the worst for the twenty-first century and we are doing everything to stay positive, focused, upbeat, and push onward.
After breakfast, we headed out to Burlingame, to the post office to ship some care packages to a loved one in the military. The quaint village, I’d like to call it, was covered in smoke, and the air quality the most unhealthiest, making it near impossible to walk through Burlingame Avenue without gasping for air, or feeling the need to rub our eyes. I figured since we were unable to venture out anywhere along the coast, or even through trails inland, we would instead head to the Central Park and hang out at the Japanese Garden for a bit before heading back home. Not realizing how extreme the smoke filled air stagnated above the trees and the surrounding areas.
I thanked the trees for holding the smoke at bay, so that for a little while we could explore and pretend that everything is okay and will be okay.
On Sunday, we decided to stay in San Francisco and walk through Golden Gate Park, since all the warnings about the fires all around, road closures and more. We figured the walk might do us good, in particular to help clear all the negative thinking. So we walked on, veering to a path, which I’ve often wondered about, as to where it leads. Discovering that it was a shortcut to Stowe Lake. A place we normally took a longer way to get to.