Adam Sharron

A New Year’s Day tradition foraging mussels for pasta, aided by the minus tide inverse of the king tides offering up the deep mussel beds on the Sonoma Coast

There will come soft rains Sara Teasdale 1884 – 1933 (War Time) There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white, Robins will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Instead of other things, I offer one of my favorite poems, now and forever:

In places with good bike infrastructure, cycling is a practical and natural way to get around, not a statement about fitness or the environment.

A night mirror on the pacific coast.

📌

We’re not closing the street to cars, we’re opening it to people.

It’s not a low traffic neighborhood, it’s a low air-pollution neighborhood.

Hachiya persimmon leaf, glowing reddish-orange while backlit by warm autumn sunlight. Leaf capillaries bright and visible like river systems seen from space.

Ripe orange Havhiya persimmons hang from a green leafy branch, bathed in warm and gentle autumn sunlight.

Summer reaching deep into the warmth of autumn. Hachiyas nearly there - now just a game of chicken with the raccoons and jays.

Please add me as well!

Thanks for the code! Much appreciated.