Walkin' with Joaquin

It’s one of those sunny spring mornings where I can’t wait to get out of the car and start walking. I bring my phone, mask, and tea, actually not tea but a warm unsweetened organic soy milk fortified with alfalfa, beet powder, and chia seeds, full of all the things my changing body thinks are yummy these days.  Often as I wander the Park I think about the hikers of 100 years ago, 150, 200 years, 500 years. I wonder how the Ohlone enjoyed their tea? Certainly not walking around with a plastic cup. (Actually mine isn’t plastic; it’s made from wheat fiber and magic with a rubber lid and it will decay in my lifetime. $5.49 at Whole Foods .) How the heck did they even boil water without iron pots? In deer hides? In baskets? In abalone shells? I’d read about native hot pots—they’d put hot stones in water to heat it up. The Oakland Museum only has one Ohlone basket; they took years to make and were burned with their users.  When I come to the bottom of the hill, I come to the bottom ...

Today I met Ann Schlader of the Schlader family, who have been the showrunners and guardians of the Woodminster Theater since 1967. She was hoping I was someone coming to take away some furniture…it’s cleanup season backstage, and there was a leak in the costume closet, so all the costumes came out into for air. Ann swept her arm, gesturing at two dozen boxes of shoes and boots, scarves and sweaters, jackets with bric-a-brac, getting ready to donate costumes to another theater company. There are crochet yente shawls from Fiddler on the Roof, Delta Nu screenprinted sweatshirts from Legally Blonde, odd fripperies from Seussical, and a box of bustles. (If you’re interested, let Ann know !)  As we pawed through racks of sweaters, furs, capes, and dresses, I said, “Wouldn’t it be great if Oakland had a central warehouse where local theaters could come borrow costumes?”  Her face lit up. “Like down in Alameda.” Yes, where the antique auctions are.  I told her I’d once gone on...

I'm excited to announce a workshop by poet Paul Corman Roberts this weekend at the Ranger Station! Paul is a wonderful force in Oakland's literary community. A founder of the Beast Crawl Literary Festival and a member of the California Writers Club since 2019, he loves Joaquin Miller Park and, in fact, read pieces by Miller at last fall's beautiful  Blanket and a Basket of Chow event. The author of four chapbooks and two full-length collections of prose poetry, including Bone Moon Palace from Nomadic Press, Paul is a four-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Web, and the Northern California Book Award. For his MA/MFA Graduate of the New College of California Poetics program, he studied with David Meltzer, Genny Lim, and Neeli Cherkovski. In addition to teaching at SF Creative Writing Institute, he also teaches workshops for the Older Writer’s Lab at the San Francisco Public Library. His day job as a substitute teacher for the Oakland Unified School District h...

 This morning, I drove through “God Rays” as the sun on the hills pierced the pea-soup fog that snuggled around the city.  In the Park it's mellow, green and sunny. A state of grace.  Here’s a poem I found about Joaquin Miller, written by California's first poet laureate, the amazing Miss Ina. The Poet He walks with God upon the hills! …. And sees, each morn, the world arise …. New-bathed in light of paradise. He hears the laughter of her rills, …. Her melodies of many voices, …. And greets her while his heart rejoices. She to his spirit undefiled, Makes answer as a little child; …. Unveiled before his eyes she stands, …. And gives her secrets to his hands. Ina Coolbrith, Century , December 1885;  Songs from the Golden Gate  (1895) photo by Felix Baum

In the waning days of December, I gave a journalist friend the nickel tour of the Park. Next thing I knew I was on KCBS radio , talking about finding inspiration in the park and the writers who built it. Then all of a sudden, the idea for a new CWC memorial grove for writers was OUT THERE in the world!  Alongside the Woodminister Cascade, which was built by the WPA run two stands of redwood trees that were planted in 1934. Each one of them is named for a California Writer. Oakland honored its first poet laureate in 2021, so this is a good time to think about honoring writers in the last 90-some years.  I kicked the idea around with Tim Vendilinski, the “Oak Evangelist” of Friends of Sausal Creek , and this week we took a walk to imagine a space where the literary arts could thrive in the woods alongside our wonderful city  amphitheater . We were joined by Dale Risden, the Park's current spiritual (and physical) guardian, and Amos White, social justice eco-energizer ...

Mushrooming: to emerge from the earth; to increase very quickly; to appear out of nowhere, in abundance;  OR: to collect mushrooms with great enthusiasm and the intent of eating them.  It's all about the mushrooms right now. Everyone's sharing photos on Facebook, they're talking about the joys of mushrooming on Forum , and on the FOJMP listerv there's the question going around: is it legal to pick mushrooms from a city park? I've been dropping jaw over mushrooms since November, when I walked with a friend who knows many of them by name. Turkey tail, wood ear, candy cap. We text each other photos when we spot bright colors or big beauties. A month ago I took my mom on a walk n' roll, and all my elders dropped to their knees to investigate a fairy ring.  I grew up mushrooming. My dad was a busy doctor, and my mom, a nature sprite, could get him out playing when he had a scientific inquiry to inspire him. They’d send each kid in a different direction with a pillo...

The creek has burst its boundaries after the big rains, and is dancing past dumpsters and  carving deep ravines through the now lush-green meadow. I walked with a childlike friend who grinned into the big puddles and whooped over the roaring waterfall at the crossroads bridge. "It's like therapy to me," she noted, "to see the wild chaos after a big event, as part of nature's plan. It makes me feel like what's happening inside me isn't so weird at all." Yeah, I totally get that.We came across yet another fallen tree and adopted some branches to bring home for the holidays. Across the ravine, a woman and her dog had to crawl under branches.  Out by the front of the park, someone had lovingly festooned a snag with shiny bulbs. Trees are falling, trees are dying. Nature's not keeping up. I had a long conversation the other day with Tim Vendlinski, the Oak Saver. Read this article ! This is Oakland. We need to plant a thousand ...