Blooming In Eternity
            Fear of my severely disabled younger son being left without at least one parent alive to care for him is so powerful that for most of his 28 years, my husband and I rarely drive in the same car together without him. The sudden loss of both parents would be the end of his world.
            If we want to share a meal for a special occasion, we might walk to a neighborhood café for lunch when he’s attending his day program, but even that is rare.
            Our special exception over the years was to visit my husband’s graduate school mentor and his wife. A generation older than us, they became beloved lifelong friends.
            Our older son and our old babysitter tag-teamed to keep a close eye on our younger son so we could cross the Bay Bridge and spend time with our friends in Orinda.
            Each summer we would dine outdoors in their garden, often visited by deer sauntering down the steep hill by their house. At the holidays, we sat after dinner exchanging small gifts, a special jar of jam, a tin of fancy tea, handy gardening gloves. One of our gifts to them each winter was to plant fresh daffodil bulbs in the pots on their patio, one of the few flowers that the deer would not eat.
            On each summer visit they would point to a section of the hill where they planted the previous year’s bulbs, so the hill would bloom with an ever-larger number of daffodils each year.
            A few years ago, the husband passed away, and we were devastated. It felt even more important to continue our visits to see the wife. Our older son moved away and our old babysitter had to care for her aging mother, so our care team that allowed us to visit our friend together was no longer there. We took turns.
            This week, we received a call that the wife had passed away. The visceral meaning of the word “bereft” reverberated in my heart.
            I remembered a book she gave me years ago, one that I was still waiting to read one day as a special treat. It was about an adventurous woman raised in a wild rural part of Australia who grew up to be a world traveler. Our friend said it reminded her of me. 
            My autistic son loves to move books to completely different bookshelves, rooms, and floors of the house. He moved that and countless other books to multiple locations among the hundreds of books in our house, and I no longer knew where it was.
            The night I heard of our friend’s passing I laid in bed thinking of our years of treasured visits together, an image of that book flashing through my mind. The next day, I was sorting through the cluttered maze that is our attic. I bent down to move some fallen items, and that lost book stared up at me from the floor. It was as if someone had placed it there for me to find among all of the scattered items I might have stumbled onto.
            Now I will finally read that book. Though I will miss seeing our friend to plant the fresh daffodil bulbs I had ready for her, I will imagine the hill above their garden in spring, ornamented by the daffodils whose number increased as our friendship grew deeper.
            May we all find comfort in cherished memories when we suffer great losses. Keep putting one foot forward.
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Inspiration Point-Nimitz Way Hike, brings readers to an easy in-and-out hike along the paved Nimitz Trail with scenic reservoir and bay views from the hills of Orinda.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 157: Inspiration Point-Nimitz Way Hike
 

Into the Aether
            This morning I opened the front door to a vibrant blue sky with the autumn sun shining, but there was something stirring in the air.
            A couple of hours later, I stepped onto the porch to a face full of heavy San Francisco fog. It was a joy.
            As a kid growing up in one of the snowiest parts of Upstate New York, I took pride in our extreme snowy winters. Years without a record-breaking blizzard were disappointing. I feel homesick when looking at images of deep snow.
            Having raised my two sons in San Francisco near Ocean Beach, we take pride in the thick dense fog that brings visibility down to a few yards. My older son waxes nostalgic at times saying, “San Francisco doesn’t seem as foggy as it was when I was little.”
            He may be right. There have been more years featuring numerous clear days, as opposed to years when he was little when it felt like we only saw the sun in our neighborhood three days out of 365.
            Fog gives San Francisco a moody ambiance and mystique. Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge to Marin County can be a daredevil adventure. We strain to see the car bumper ahead in the thick fog that makes the dark orange towers of the bridge invisible, and Alcatraz a phantom across the water, not even registering a silhouette.
            Hikes on foggy days can be as enjoyable as on clear ones. The fog can be so thick ahead it feels like we’re about to step off the edge of the world. (We’re careful about actual cliff edges!) 
            Thanks to nature for keeping our surroundings ever-changing and fascinating. Do you have a favorite weather phenomenon? Keep putting one foot forward!
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Hill 88 from Rodeo Beach, introduces readers to a head-clearing hike whether in a mist that limits visibility to ten feet or clear skies that open the view to landmarks fifty miles away.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 55: Hill 88 from Rodeo Beach
​

Because It’s There
            Why do we do the things we do? Some actions are the result of focused intentions, and others pop up more randomly. 
            Occasionally an offhand word or image gets stuck in my head as something I want to do something with.
            I love hiking. I love looking at maps. I love reading trail names.
            Some trails are simply connectors between more significant pathways, not of major note by themselves, but they have intriguing names. Back when my son and our trail buddy and I were spending a lot of hiking time in the Blithedale Ridge area of Mt. Tam, the name Huckleberry Trail kept catching my attention on the map.
            One day we were heading up a fire road and we stumbled onto the trailhead sign for Huckleberry Trail. We made a spontaneous decision to hike that to connect to another fire trail.
            Turns out that despite being short, the Huckleberry Trail is quite steep and was not very well maintained when we hiked it. We huffed and puffed our way up the rough path. The challenge made it all the more satisfying to climb it and check it off my curiosity list. Why? Because it was there.
            Some of life’s most satisfying moments come from trying things “just because.”
            Have you had any great life adventures stemming from a “just because it’s there” moment? Keep that random, spontaneous light burning!
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Huckleberry Trail, leads readers on a short but steep connector trail between fire roads in the Blithedale Summit Preserve in Marin County. 
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 34: Huckleberry Trail

Love Where You Live
            Wherever we live, whether it’s a rural area, a medium sized town, or a huge metropolitan region, there will be ups and downs over the years.
            Local industries that have sustained a city for decades may go bust. With the passing of time, something new that supports the community may take its place.
            The quality of schools may go up and down with economic and social changes. Crime rates may go up and then back down again.
            Issues like homelessness can rise anywhere when circumstances strike individuals and broader society harshly enough.
            Land and structures we love may be ravaged by fire, storms, or earthquakes. With time, trees grow again, people build again.
            If we love a place, it helps to remember why we loved it, especially in challenging times. Do we abandon loved ones when things get difficult for them? Hopefully not in most cases. The places we live need care through tough times, too.
            I love San Francisco. This city has had its share of ups and downs over the years, like every other city. I still love the inherent good nature and quirkiness of its residents, and the beauty it has as a city, both by the natural scenery it is woven into, and by many cultural structures and institutions.
            All it takes is a stroll through one of San Francisco’s many unique neighborhoods, a walk on one of its beaches or hiking trails, or a visit to a museum, concert venue or restaurant to remember why I fell in love with it years ago. 
            This week’s Hike Notes, Macondray Lane-San Francisco City Walk, introduces readers to one of San Francisco’s charming pedestrian lanes on Russian Hill. The hidden-treasure magic of this tiny lane on one of San Francisco’s famous hills with its glorious views of San Francisco Bay—the jewel of Alcatraz highlighting the water—is the kind of thing that makes visitors fall in love.
            What are the treasured spaces where you live? May we all remember and appreciate the things we love about the places we live. Keep putting one foot forward!
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
New this week:
Hike Notes 225: Macondray Lane-San Francisco City Walk

Spooked by the Unfamiliar
            It’s almost Halloween. Who doesn’t love a ghost story?
            I’ve written several times about feeling spooked on a hiking trail, but I’ve had those hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck tingle moments indoors as well.
            The challenges of autism make it hard for our younger son and us as a family to do overnight trips, but on rare occasions we manage to go somewhere within a four- or five-hour drive and spend a night or two.
            We heard about the wild beauty of the Mendocino Coast countless times over the years. We also heard about locations along the coast where it is possible to stay overnight at a lighthouse. When we finally visited Mendocino, fate drew us to the head lightkeeper’s house as our weekend accommodation.
            Point Cabrillo Lighthouse is beautiful, and is set on a stunning, rough bit of coastline. The lightkeeper’s house is a short distance from the actual lighthouse, and the sound of waves crashing remind visitors of their proximity to the ocean all through the night.
            The lightkeeper’s house combines the charm of the old building with decorative items reflecting the era when lighthouse keepers actually lived there with modern updates such as fresh paint and fresh carpets for guest comfort.
            Despite the “freshening up” for modern times, when I had to walk alone at night down the carpeted steps from the bedrooms on the second floor to fetch something from the kitchen, I sensed the presence of people who had walked those stairs before. It wasn’t just at night. When everyone else was still quiet in bed in the morning, I walked down those stairs alone to the main floor and felt that same hovering sense of residents from long ago.
            It wasn’t a threatening feeling, but it wasn’t exactly a happy, light feeling, either. We were only there for two nights, so it was easy enough to dismiss that uneasy feeling as we packed up to leave.
            Maybe it was just that we were staying in a different house that was unfamiliar. This past week I wrote a piece about how people can feel scared of places or people that seem “different,” and that sometimes includes people with disabilities.
            The title of the new essay is “My Own Boo Radley,” a title I’ve had in my head for years. Thanks to the Renaissance Garden Guy for featuring my fifth guest piece on the site. The link to read “My Own Boo Radley” is in the comments below. Feel free to share the story link, leave comments on the Renaissance Garden Guy page, or here on Facebook.
            Have you ever felt spooked in a house or building? Did you ever hear a ghost story about a place and then felt something strange there? Hopefully any ghosts you’ve bumped into have been friendly! Keep putting one foot forward!
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Point Cabrillo Lighthouse-Mendocino, takes readers to a historic lighthouse on the wild and scenic Mendocino Coast, and the lightkeeper’s house where we stayed.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 138: Point Cabrillo Lighthouse-Mendocino

Golden Glow of Memory
            A friend texted me this week to say she was traveling through Western New York State, featuring its renowned autumn leave colors, and was thinking of me.
            It means a great deal to me that people who know I’m from Upstate New York—and how much I love the natural beauty I grew up in—think of me when they visit.
            The golden glow created by autumn light on yellow, orange and red maple leaves is always breathtaking. My favorite seasons, in order, are autumn, winter, spring and summer. The magical light and fresh chill of autumn air in the northeast is intoxicating, and I miss it.
            We have luminous natural lighting effects here in Northern California as well, though created from different trees and terrain. 
            One hike in Marin filled me with that poignant feeling of autumn radiance, though the light was not shining on maple trees. The tunnel of trees we were passing through intertwined with the afternoon light, creating a golden haze that felt like a dream.
            What is your favorite season? What images bring a sense of nostalgia? Open your heart to those seasonal sensory memories, and keep putting one foot forward!
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Blithedale Summit from Summit Drive, leads readers on lovely tree tunnel trails past sculptural madrone and live oak trees, with views of the bay from one angle and the East Peak of Mt. Tam from another.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 168 : Blithedale Summit from Summit Drive

Losing Loved Ones
            A few days ago, I found out that a dear friend had passed away. Though not totally unexpected, it was still a shock to the system.
            Over many years, starting with me as a customer at her bakery, and continuing over the years as she moved far away and then close again, we chatted and e-mailed about parallel challenges in life: the ups and downs of business and finances, worries about family and the world, and health challenges big and small for ourselves and loved ones.
            When one of my Insights posts was about something I thought might especially strike a chord with her, I shared it. She’d always reply that she read my posts every week and had already read the one I was sending.
            Her health challenge took her away too young. I question why bad things happen to good people. 
            This past Sunday, feeling heavy hearted, I couldn’t think where to take my autistic son for our hike. Then it hit me that a visit to the beach where we had a small memorial for my mom a couple of years ago might capture the spirit of the day.
            We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin. Distracted with grief, I took a wrong turn. The place we ended up was coincidentally the first site I’d thought to visit as a solace for the loss of my friend. We walked out to a bluff with a coastal view of my mom’s memorial spot in one direction and Point Bonita Lighthouse in the other.
            I thought of my friend, and of my mom, who passed away within a few months of my beloved dad. On our quiet drive home, our classical music station played Beethoven’s Sonata Pathetique, one of the piano pieces my dad used to play after my brothers and I went to bed when we were kids. Listening to all three movements, I realized that I still remember every note from repeatedly hearing the notes waft upstairs from the living room to my bedroom.
            Hearing those notes made me feel like I was with my dad. Being near my mom’s memorial site reminded me of her. Some things will make me feel my friend is still here in spirit: pumpkin scones, exquisite holiday cookies, the knitted hand warmers she made that I wear on cold days at my desk.
            Wendy, your spirit weathered rough waves like those crashing at the lighthouse in this photo. I will remember you when I look at the sunset, glowing behind the Farallon Islands, or shimmering on our shared San Francisco cityscape. Thank you, friend, for the goodness you shared.
            I looked back at Point Bonita Lighthouse as the archive hike for photos shared here, and saw that the accompanying Insights post was about how the essence of our loved ones remains. I share that post again below in honor of Wendy, whose essence I know is still here.
 
Originally posted in May of 2018:
 
The Essence Remains
            What happens when our loved ones are gone? By “gone,” I mean in the mortal sense. Of no longer being here physically.
            One of my favorite classes in college was about religion and death. What an array of beliefs there are. About guiding the dying on their way out. About those left behind dealing with their grief. About how to handle the physical remains of those who have passed.
            I have no solid answers for anyone. My heart is strengthened, however, by learning how others process the absence of those they shared life with.
            One thing I do know for myself: The essence of a person remains.
            It can be thick in the air when a person is first gone. It can waft back in waves over years, when one least expects it.
            When a person’s essence sweeps up to touch us again, it may not happen on the anniversary date of their loss. Or a birthday, or a holiday.
            The tangible sense of a loved one may appear in quiet, unanticipated moments. Triggered by a smell or sound. Reverberating in a familiar object or patch of scenery that flashes at just the right moment and angle.
            How thankful I am for those unexpected visceral memories, filling me with the sense of a missing companion.
            The life to death transition is sometimes expressed as a bridge, a crossing from one realm to another.
 
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Point Bonita Lighthouse, has its own narrow, shaky bridge leading to a wonderful historic lighthouse. This is a stunning area to visit, whether you’re there in the narrow time frame allowing access to the lighthouse, or show up any old time to walk around the surrounding area.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 13: Point Bonita Lighthouse

Just for Fun
            Each week when I look through photos from that week’s featured hike to choose one for the accompanying Insights post, I almost always find one image that reverberates with poignant meaning. Almost always. On rare occasions, a photo of an outing reflects nothing but fun.
            This week’s Insights photo shows a sea serpent sculpture—originally created for Burning Man—which has recently risen its head and twisted body up from the waters below Rainbow Falls in Golden Gate Park.
            Not only does the sea serpent sculpture add a dramatic surprise to those who happen to walk along this stretch of the JFK Promenade, but it also sometimes blows bubbles.
            Poignant? No. Loved by purists who prefer simple trees and water? Perhaps not.
            But it was fun to see, and that is sometimes all we need.
            This week’s Hike Notes, Rainbow Falls and Prayer Book Cross-Golden Gate Park, takes visitors to one of the many special feature spots in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.
            Go ahead and do something just for the fun of it. Each moment of happiness we experience is a treasure. Keep putting one foot forward!
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social

New this week:
Hike Notes 224: Rainbow Falls and Prayer Book Cross-Golden Gate Park
 

Fences, Leaves and Shadows
            Light and shadows flickering on the path ahead. The curve of a trail hugged by a weatherworn wooden fence. Scattered leaves creating a multicolored mosaic on a trail underfoot. These are a few of my favorite things.
            I’ve soaked up the magic of these nature highlights on trails in all the places I’ve lived: the Adirondacks, Western Massachusetts, Japan, and in California on trails ranging from Mt. Tam in Marin to forests in Mendocino.
            It is a comfort that these aesthetically inspiring features can be found in many places, yet exciting to know they are unique in each region and appear in infinite combinations. 
            What nature elements spark a happy glow for you? The sparkle of a lake? The breeze blowing on your face? Stop for a moment and soak up that good vibe. You can close your eyes and tap into that feeling again later.
            Keep putting one foot forward!
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Bay Tree Trail-Huddart Park, a park in Woodside, California that features many miles of wooded trails.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 148: Bay Tree Trail-Huddart Park

Summer Daze
            I grew up in a region that lived up to the Currier and Ives promise of four distinct seasons: Bright green leaves and flower buds emerging in spring, hot, humid summers with lush greens and the sound of cicadas, autumns marked by stunning orange and red leaves, sometimes edged with frost, and cold, snowy winters where playing with friends meant sleds and hot chocolate. Those Adirondack Foothills seasons live on in my heart.
            People who live in desert regions or jungle areas know and love a different type of terrain and seasonal changes. Some changes are subtle, and some are stark in contrast.
            Now I live a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco. Having highs in the low 60s and lows in the low 50s, often with plenty of fog to blanket us, is weather we see near the beach year-round.
            San Francisco’s reputation for foggy summers held up this July and August, with barely a sky in the cloud. Locals held their breath for sunshine to arrive in September, and the sun and blue skies did not disappoint.
            People hang out at sidewalk cafes in tank tops with an excitement in the air that says, “Look! We have summer sometimes, too!”
            Beach parking has been packed on sunny September days. People who wear shorts once a year if they’re lucky have dug out their summer gear for the chance to bare their legs. It’s our area’s chance to make the most of visits to the beach.
            Take advantage of good weather wherever you live, no matter what time of year it shows up. Keep putting one foot forward!
            This week’s Hike Notes from the archives, Black Sands Beach, takes readers to a beach in the Marin Headlands that features black sand, and gorgeous views of the Marin Headlands shoreline and San Francisco.
            Check the Home page for the broader background story. Click Insights/Hike Update News for inspiring reflections. Browse hikes on the main Hikes page or on the Hike Search by Area page, and scroll to the bottom of each hike page to see full photo galleries.
            If you’d like to support HikingAutism, check out the Support/Shop page! Check out selected articles and interviews under Media. Click World Walks to see or share favorite family-friendly walks! Stay in touch with Lisa Louis and HikingAutism via Contact. The Links page lists a loose collection of helpful information links. Feel free to share and follow on Facebook at HikingAutism, Twitter at @HikingAutism, Instagram at lisalouis777, and Bluesky @hikingautism.bsky.social
 
This week’s hike from the archives:
Hike Notes 31: Black Sands Beach