I really didn’t want to, but I knew that I should, so I forced myself to go on a hike.
It is so very dry, now. It feels like fall, but more so. The grass on the hills is beyond parched — it’s sort of missing. You can see how low the reservoir is, too.
The path along the reservoir is nice, though. It’s shaded and pretty. It was around here that I was absolutely sure that a mountain lion was watching me. It’s not a crazy thought, actually — there are certainly some around. They use the trails, too, although usually at night when no people are around. But it got very still — I heard no birds and I realized that there was a big rock above the trail — if I was a mountain lion, that’s where I would be sleeping. Also, I was alone, which was dumb. I have this conflict about the wilderness. I’m glad it exists, and in theory, I would even like to experience it. In actual fact, though, I do not want to be alone when I run into a mountain lion. I don’t know — maybe if I’d grown up in the wilderness I’d feel more at home in it. By the time I got here I could hear cars again, and I was pretty sure the mountain lion was not following me. Apparently, they really would rather eat deer. (Hmm.)
Next time, I’m going with people.
Anyway. I came home and made dinner and now I’m taking a bath and going to bed.