Biking Petaluma to San Francisco

What's the point of being progressive? No point.

The best that can be done is to be part of one's own time, with enough awareness of the past not to re-live certain aspects of it, and therefore behave in a way that makes at least a little sense of the present.

A single California oak, seen on a far hillside somewhere in Sonoma County, makes a far stronger visual impression than two oaks that have grown up together, or a grove of oaks, which are also beautiful but beautiful in their plurality.

Passing the gates of The Institute of Noetic Sciences in the countryside just south of Petaluma, I wonder what Noetic science is and if it is related to liberal humanism.

In an almost empty field, the farmer has stacked hay bales so that they resemble the freight cars of a train that has come to a stop at a station and waits to be loaded with bales of hay.

When traveling at 12 mph or above, my bike makes a sound that mimics the music of the late John Coltrane, so that I hum "A Love Supreme" from Novato to Larkspur. But I have to be on my bike to hear this music, it goes without saying.

If I feel that I must stop moving forward it's only because I'm very tired, not because I can't see the end. I know if I can just keep going I'll reach the end, and the end is very often where I'am going.