Friday, November 11, 2011

Old John and the Forest Fire (Part 8 - Last)

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
(Psalm 121:-1-2)

Part 8 of 8
__________

Jerry was looking all around with his binoculars, trying to find a way of escape – a way to safety.  Suddenly, he spotted some flashes of light from way up on top of Baldcrest.
It was then that he remembered that there was a was a fire lookout way up there on the peak.  He also recalled some of the stories he had heard since he was a kid about the strange, maybe even dangerous recluse who spent his life up there.
Jerry gave the binoculars to his son, young John, and asked him if he could see anything, or make any sense out of those flashes.
After a couple of minutes looking, young John recognized the strange flashes as Morse Code.  He responded back with his own brief message asking for help.
Quickly, a message was flashed back from high up on the mountain telling them where to pick up the trail.  They were to follow the trail as quickly as possible in order to get out of the danger they were in.  It was starting to get pretty dark, and the message back to them from the top of the mountain was sent with a flashlight.  It said simply:
         F-O-L-L-O-W // M-Y // L-I-G-H-T //  // I // W-I-L-L // N-O-T //
         S-L-E-E-P // U-N-T-I-L // Y-O-U // A-R-E // S-A-F-E

Not knowing what to expect, but trusting in Old John's promise of safety, out of reach of the onrushing fire that was destroying everything in its path, Jerry and his family followed the light and made their way up the trail and through the dark where Old John was guiding them.
Trusting completely in Old John and the message they had received from him, they began to climb the trail to the lookout high up on Baldcrest.  After a while, the trail narrowed and was carved into the side of a steep cliff.  Annette became very concerned that they would not be able to make it to the top, and wanted them to turn back. They stopped and Jerry, Annette, Sue and John talked about whether they could trust the instructions that had been sent to them from up on the top of the mountain.  They did not want to turn back, because that seemed far worse than what seemed to lay ahead – even with the darkness of the night and the dangerous narrowing trail.  So they decided to trust that if they kept their eyes on that light off in the distance, and followed the path they had been led to, they would be all right.

Slowly and carefully, they started off again – weary but hopeful.

A little while later, with the path becoming rockier and more slippery, they came to a small level place where another path went off to the right.  This side-path was wider and seemed to be in a lot better shape than what they had been walking on.  It looked like it was on a slight down slope, and would be easier, and probably even safer than the path they were on.  They all wanted to get off of this steep, narrow, slippery path.  Certainly this side-path was in better shape, safer, and it led downward to where they were certain to be safe.  They decided that they should take this new path.

However, a little further off to the right, in the darkness of the night, they could see the glow of the fire.  Would this path really lead them to safety – before the fire reached this new path?  They really wanted to get down and out of this wilderness.  They were desperate to be safe!

Jerry looked up toward the mountain top, and there he saw the light that they were supposed to follow.  But that was such an uncertain path.  Should they follow the message from an unknown person high up on a lone mountain peak?  Or should they follow their own instincts and make a run for safety down this other path that looked so much better – in hopes of outrunning the approaching fire?

Which way would lead to safety?  After some discussion, with emotions running high, they agreed that the best thing to do was to trust the message, and the unknown messenger.  He did seem to have a better perspective than they did.

They picked up their packs  and continued slowly up the narrow path.  They kept their eyes fixed on that light.  Eventually, they realized that fear and doubt would creep in whenever they focused on the narrow uncertain path, and on the darkness that surrounded them.  But they became encouraged and hopeful when they fixed their attention on the light way up ahead of them.

Suddenly, Jerry's and Annette's daughter, Sue, let out a scream – her right foot slipped over the edge of the rocky path and she started to fall toward the edge.  There was nothing below here but darkness!  Young John was right behind his sister – He reached out in a flash and grabbed at her pack!  He got it!  It slipped – he grabbed again.  He got a precarious hold . . . but it was enough.  Sue's left foot and knee were still on the path.  She was screaming and trying to lean away from the horrible darkness below.  Finally, John was able to help her get back up.  She was safe.


It was clear that Sue was not going to be able to carry her pack any farther up this trail.  John took Sue's pack from her, and began putting some of the more critical items in his pack.  He passed some of the other necessities to his mother, who passed them on to Jerry to put in his pack.  Between them, Jerry and John were able to take Sue's burden off of her, so that she would not be hindered in making the climb safely to the top.

The light was still there, guiding them forward.  They did not take their eyes off of it any longer than was necessary to keep their feet on the trail, and they were staying as close to each other as possible as they made their way single file on up the slippery dark path.  They kept encouraging each other by reminding themselves of the promised safety that waited for them up there where the light was shining.

Annette had her head down for a moment to check where she was putting her next step when she ran into the pack on Jerry's back.  He had come to a sudden stop and she had run into him before he could shout to stop.  "There's no More trail!  It's gone!" he stammered.

Jerry peered into the darkness beyond the sudden end of the trail, and all he could see was a cliff extending from above them on the left and extending down past where the path should be and into the darkness below.  "It looks like a rockslide has wiped out the path", Jerry said.  Through the darkness ahead, he could just see the path again.  But it was some 20 or 30 feet away, across an impassible gulf.

Desperate and bewildered, Jerry searched the darkness for some answer, for some way of escape, for some help.  Then he saw it.  The light was still there.  It did not seem to be that far away, but he could not tell.  Distances were deceiving in the dark.  Jerry called out for help.  "If you can here me, please help us.  We have followed your instructions and you are our only help!  Death is behind us and death is in front of us!  Please help us!"

As they watched, the light came closer, and slowly closer.  They heard a voice calling back to them, "Don't be afraid.  I'm here with you, and I'll get you to safety."

The light stopped at the far edge of the gap in the trail, and was obviously being set down on the ground.  Through the darkness, they could just make out the image of a man.  He appeared to be getting ready to throw something across to them.  "Take this rope that I'm throwing over to you.  I'll use it to send over a hammer and some anchors.  Drive the anchors securely into the ground and fasten the rope to the anchors.  We'll make a bridge to get you all across this gap.  You will be safe."

After an hour or so, they had a rope bridge that spanned the dangerous gap and should be secure enough to walk across – one at a time.  John volunteered to try the bridge out.  He trusted his father, and was beginning to be able to trust this strange man on the other side of this bridge.  So far he had been faithful to his word - he certainly seemed to be able to do what he said he would do – bring them to safety.

John stepped on the rope bridge, first one foot, then the other.  It sank under his weight and his heart jumped into his throat – but it was holding him.  Slowly, he moved across, one foot, then the other – one slow step after another.

The bridge was made of a single rope to "walk" on, with two additional ropes about waist high to hold onto  About every two feet, there were vertical ropes connecting the bottom rope to each of the two waist-high ropes.  These helped to keep the three ropes a s stable as possible, even tough the bridge as a unit swayed from side to side with each step.

After John had reached the halfway point, he moved a bit quicker – until he had reached the other end and jumped off into the outreached arms of the man who was waiting for him.  Old John gave him a big bear hug and then helped him squeeze past on the narrow path so that he could help Sue come across.

Soon, all four of them were safely across.  They all wanted to thank Old John at once.  But, it was still dark, and they were still on this precariously narrow path hanging on the side of the cliff.  There was still a way to go to the lookout.  Old John squeezed carefully passed each of them.  He passed a rope back down to them, and they tied themselves together.  If one slipped, the others could more easily help the one in danger.  They started off again – feeling far more secure than a short time ago.

Soon, they were passing the timberline, and leaving the last of the trees behind.  They were almost there.
Finally, they came around the last edge of the cliff above them and up to a little level spot where the trail widened significantly.  There, Old John stopped and welcomed them to the safety of his home.  He was still holding the flashlight that had been their main source of encouragement throught their ordeal.  They untied themselves from the rope, and Old John greeted them with real bear hugs.  He led them up the wooden steps and into his cozy warm lookout where he had prepared a special place for them to rest and have something to eat and drink.
Old John had the biggest smile on his face – he was as happy as they were that they were all safe.  Only Old John fully realized the terrible danger Jerry's family had been in, and how important it was that they have his help to get to safety.  Without Old John the whole family would have perished.
The next morning, after a good night's rest, they looked out from the lookout and were overwhelmed by the sight of all the destruction.  They were already filled with gratefulness for Old John rescuing them.  But, as they looked out across the scorched forest, they began to realize even more all that they had been saved from, and what Old John had really done for them.  They could not wait to tell their friends about their rescue, and most of all, about Old John and just how wonderful he is.
______________________

He will not allow your foot to slip;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
(Psalm 121:3)


Jesus said, "I am the Light of the world;
he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness,
but will have the Light of life."
(John 8:12)


Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.
(Psalm 119:105)


Jesus said, "Do not let your heart be troubled;
believe in God, believe also in Me.
In My Father’s house are many dwelling places;
if it were not so, I would have told you;
for I go to prepare a place for you.
If I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come again and receive you to Myself,
that where I am, there you may be also."
(John 14:1-3)


The Scripture says, "whoever believes in Him will not be disappointed."
(Romans 10:11; Isaiah 28:16)

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Old John and the Forest Fire (Part 7)

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
(Psalm 121:1)


Part 7 of 8
__________

Old John was using his powerful binoculars to scan the forest to the south.  He was methodically checking from the east to the west, and from the base of Baldcrest out to the leading edge of the northward-marching fire line.  Suddenly, he stopped.  He thought he had seen something flashing.  He moved his binoculars slowly back to the left a little bit at a time, and – –  there it was again!  The sun seemed to be glittering off of something shiny on the next ridge down south of him – just slightly to the east of due south.  It came and went, like something was moving, something shiny.  Could some people be over there?
He grabbed up his signal mirror and used it to reflect some sunlight in the direction where he was seeing these sort of random flashes.  If somebody was down there, they were not in a good place, and they would really need some help getting away from that fire, and soon.  If he could get their attention, he could tell them how to come up to him where they would be safe.  Old John knew that no matter what the fire might destroy, anyone with him would be safe for sure.  No fire could reach above the timberline where he was.
The reflection that he saw became steadier.  If that was someone down there, it was very possible that what he was seeing was a reflection from some binoculars as they looked up toward him and the fire lookout tower.  He decided to try using his signal mirror to send a simple message.  He hoped that they would recognize his flashes as  a message in Morse Code and understand what he was saying.  They needed his help more than they might realize.

 -.-. --- -- . | - --- | -- . | .- -. -.. |
 -.-- --- ..- | .-- .. .-.. .-.. | -... . |
 ... .- ..-. .


"C O M E | TO | ME | AND | YOU | WILL | BE | SAFE"

Old John waited, and tried again – and again.  Was someone down there in need of help?  Would they understand his message?  Would they respond to him?!
________________________

After quite some time, Old John was about to stop trying when he suddenly saw a series of flashes coming back to him.  His heart just about jumped out of his chest.  Someone was definitely answering back.  In Morse Code, they reached out to him:

.... . .-.. .--. | .-- . | -.. --- | -. --- - |
 -.- -. --- .-- | - .... . | .-- .- -.--


"HELP | WE | DO | NOT | KNOW | THE | WAY"

[To be continued - jad]

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

A Proud and Honorable Duty

One morning a few years ago I was out for a short walk in our neighborhood when some movement across the lawn in the front of the elementary school to my right caught my eye.  I couldn’t help but to stop and watch.
A man was raising the American flag, with the California flag tethered just beneath it, smartly to the top of a tall flagpole.  It was a beautiful sight watching the flags climb up into the bright morning sunshine – with a slight breeze lifting the wriggling flags out from the pole.  The breeze seemed to be cooperating with the sun as the flags waved slowly in the air, and the sun, rising over the Sierra Nevada in the east, lit them up as if it were a big spotlight specially designed to show off the Red, White and Blue.
But what happened next was more inspiring.  With nobody around to impress, the man stepped back a pace or two from the flagpole, stopped, looked up, and then proudly saluted with a smart snap of his right arm.  He had completed the daily task, which he obviously considered both important and an honor.  Then the man turned away to empty the trash and attend to his other responsibilities as a custodian at Vencil Brown Elementary School in Roseville.



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I really enjoy watching the hesperian (that would be west) skies as the sun slides colorfully out of sight to the left (that would be south) of Mount Diablo.  The sky is in a slow, continual, delightful metamorphoses  –  Each sunset is . . . well . . .
creatively dynamic!

And best of all! – No advertisement!  – –
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Call on Me and I will answer you (Jeremiah 33:3)
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The heavens are telling of the glory of God  – His invisible attributes are clearly seen . . .
(Psalm 19:1; Romans 1:20)

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Old John and the Forest Fire (Part 6)

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
(Psalm 121:1)

Part 6 of 8
__________

By about 8:30 in the morning, Jerry and his family had finished tying their packs shut, dumped water and dirt on their campfire to make sure it was out for good, and started the 2-day hike back to their car.
Around 10:00, they began to notice smoke blowing over the ridge to their left.  They were still in the valley hiking downstream, and there was very little breeze.  But, they could see that a wind was blowing the trees high up on the ridges around them.
By noon, the smoke had thickened and was filling more and more of the sky in the direction they had to hike in order to get back to their car – and home.  Shortly, Jerry came to the terrifying realization that he and his family were not likely to be able to get back to their car by the same trails on which they come just a week ago.  In fact, they had to make some serious decisions.  If they were going to get out, they were going to have to get rid of quite a few of their supplies.  They would have to lighten their loads in order to start a far more difficult hike north – up and over the ridge to their right.
Jerry and his son, John, put the bare essentials they would need into their two packs.  This would leave Annette and Sue free of the extra weight they had been carrying, making it easier to travel as quickly as possible.  Leaving what they would not be able to carry, the four of them left the trail and started north – up the mountainside and away from where the smoke seemed to be coming.
It was definitely slow going.  The underbrush was thick and course, and there were rocks and boulders scattered everywhere along the mountainside.  It was definitely not like hiking on the well-kept trail.  By about 4:00 in the afternoon they had reached the top of the ridge.  Beyond, they could see a rough, forested downslope and then, like a giant barrier sticking high up into the sky, Baldcrest.
But behind them, now they could see more than the smoke that was quickly filling the air with the thick smell of burnt timber and undergrowth – They could see the frightening flames that were already working their way up the backside of the next ridge behind them.  And a few ashes were beginning to fall around them like ugly black snowflakes.  It would not be long before the fire was raging down into the valley they had just fled, and up toward the ridge where they now stood.
They had become unwilling witnesses of a raging forest fire –up close and in a very personal way.  For a brief moment, they wondered if their car was even a car anymore – because, that's the direction the fire seemed to be coming from.  And this fire seemed to be bent on chasing them until it could catch them.  It extended all the way from the south around and out to the west of them, filling a good part of the horizon behind them with a horrifying mixture of grey-black smoke and red-orange flames.

[To be continued - jad - Part 7 on Nov. 4th in the pm]

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Old John and the Forest Fire (Part 5)

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
(Psalm 121:1)

Part 5 of 8
__________

It was a little after 10:30 that night when Old John spotted what he did not want to see – a small reddish-orange glow just beyond a couple of ridges to the south-west.  He quickly picked up his radio's microphone and called headquarters to report the direction and approximate distance to the place where the fire had started.  No hikers were reported to be that far over, and the cause of the fire was definitely the lightening strike.
But, a serious problem was developing fast.  The wind was picking up and would  fan the fire, likely driving it right across the place where he had parked his old 1953 Ford pickup.  Because of the darkness, the fire – fanned by the increasing wind – would have an eight to ten hour jump on the first fire fighters who could reach that remote area.  The ever-present dry brush and dead branches, which covered the forest floor like a thick worn out carpet, would make a very inviting meal for the ever-hungry young fire.
When Old John realized what the most likely path was that the fire would take, he became very concerned for the safety of the four people he knew were camping over there.  They would be in a valley that was directly in the path of the fire.  Most likely, the fire would be racing over the ridge to the south of them by mid-morning.  This would definitely cut off their path to where they most likely left their car.  And any other way out would be long, difficult, and dangerous – even if you were very familiar with the forest.
Old John had to find a way to get their attention, and get them to safety.  And he would have to do something very soon!

[To be continued - jad]

The Paradox of Freedom Through Bondage

I was born in and into heinous bondage – as are we all.  Blinded, I did not recognize my bondage.  Why? – My cage – indeed the prison cell, which contains us all  – is so large.  Our cell is this finite world in which we live.  My chains were my commitment to this world and everything in it – beautiful things; wonderful experiences; emotions and passions; desires, needs and wants.  All these otherwise good things had been distorted by sin and the prince of this world.  They blinded me to my wretched condition.
Paradoxically, my freedom came in the form of bondage – bondage to Christ.  He alone could and did rescue me from this prison, and from its chains.  He made me a citizen of His infinite and eternal kingdom.  He accomplished this marvelous act of love by revoking the claim that sin, this world, and the prince of this world had on me.  Paying the penalty of death – separation from God – (as only the infinite, all-powerful, and perfectly just God could), He threw the lifeline of His gospel (the promise and sure hope of eternal safety) to me.  He enabled me to jump to it, grab ahold of it, and to cling to it – the anchor of my soul.
Now, my chains are grace, and hope, and mercy.  Each link is forged in Christ's love on the anvil of God's eternal glory.  They carry the weight of His eternal purposes – the work of His passionate heart, the work in which He invites and allows me to participate – a burden that is designed to be both light to bear and a light to the world.
Shine, Jesus Shine!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Old John and the Forest Fire (Part 4)


I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
(Psalm 121:1)
  
Part 4 of 8
__________
Jerry, Annette, and their kids had been cozying up to their campfire for a couple of hours, drinking warm coffee and hot chocolate, and sharing stories and fun memories.  It was cooling down quickly in the valley, where it had  already gotten dark.  The peaks around them were still lit up by the warm setting sun, and were beautiful to look at.  They were enjoying their last-night's fish fry before having to pack up the next morning and start their 2-day hike back to the car.  They had been saving the trout that had been caught over the last few days for this special time.  And the fish smelled and tasted great.  It was a wonderful finish to a great week.
The night was really clear, and you couldn't even begin to count the stars – a few were very bright, and some were so dim that you could barely sense that they were  really there.  Even though there was not a cloud in sight, they were pretty sure that they could hear the distant low rumble of thunder.  In these mountainous valleys, that could mean flash floods.
Jerry decided that they should pack as much as possible that evening, and be prepared to start hiking out as quickly as necessary, but certainly as soon as possible first thing in the morning.  They definitely did not want to have to be outrunning a flooding river.
So, as soon as they finished the last bits and pieces of a wonderful trout dinner, they cleaned up, packed everything that they would not need during the night or at breakfast in the morning, and settled in for their last night's sleep in this beautifully remote valley.

[To be continued - jad]

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Reflections – Late 40's - Early 50's

 I find it intriguing to think about the kinds of things, back when I was a young boy, which seem to have begun shaping my view of the world, and started to create the questions in my mind that I would begin to ask about the world in which I found myself living, and about my place in it.

A few incidents, which occurred generally around the end of the 1940's and beginning of the 1950's, have been drifting though my head.  I was somewhere between seven and eleven years old.
I discovered that my grandma Davis came from a German-speaking family, and I wanted to learn some German words from her.  I remember how she taught me to count: eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, seben, acht, neun, zehn, ... and phrases like Gutten Morgan, dankeschön.
Somehow, which I have never discovered, my grandpa Davis had learned how to count in Chinese.  I seriously doubt that he learned this in his little school house in Baker, Oregon, where he grew up.  At any rate, he taught me to count from "ip" to "sip" (1 - 10).
Grandpa Anderson had lived and worked in Siam (now Thailand) in the very early 1900's.  He had met my English grandmother there.  (She was there with her parents – her father was Captain Robinson, a sea captain sailing ships between the Malay Peninsular and Australia.)  My grandpa told me that there is one word in the English language that comes from the Malay language, "orangutan".  It comes from two Malay words that mean, "hunched over man".
Around this same time in my life, the Korean War broke out.  It was in the news a lot.  We only had a radio then, so all of our news was from the radio or newspapers.  (I don't think we even knew anybody who had a television until about 1953, when a couple of neighbors down the street bought TVs.)  Someone, I think it was my Uncle Larry (he was married to my dad's youngest sister, Catherine), gave me a map of Korea.  I hung it on a wall in my bedroom, and marked all of the places that were being mentioned in the news.  That was my first practical (self-imposed I suppose) geography lesson.  Uncle Larry gave me a surplus Navy short wave radio receiver (An RBO - it covered the broadcast band and up to 15Mhz).  I strung up a long copper wire antenna in the back yard, and listened to as many shortwave broadcasts as I could receive.

(Some 15 or so years later, when I was an electronic technician in the Navy, one of my assignments was to the USS Markab (AR-23).  She had been in service since WWWII, and still had RB series receivers in use in Radio Central, including the RBO.)
One other thing that I clearly remember was my Golden Encyclopedia.  I particularly remember the "map" of the universe in the center of the book.  When you opened the book out flat, this "map" extended all the way across both pages, from the left edge of the left page to the right edge of the right page, and from the top of the page to the bottom - with no margin.  It was black background with various sized white marks indicating the stars and constellations.  What really intrigued me was the question, "what's beyond the edge of the page?  What's beyond and what's behind all of this vast universe?  The way this "map" was printed clear to the edge of the pages implied that their was no known limit.

          A big world was opening up to me.  Bigger than I could have imagined – certainly bigger, grander, and more complex than I could understand, or explain.

Outwitted

Once in a while, something catches our attention that is unusually thought provoking, profound, or perhaps interestingly descriptive of someone, some place, or some thing – perhaps a little nugget of truth.
When I was a college student at San Jose State, I lived in one of the men's dormitories – Markham Hall.  There was a framed plaque hanging prominently on a wall in the sitting room on the first floor, a sort of living room where guests could be entertained.  It was a short poem by Edwin Markham, after whom our Dormitory was named.

Outwitted
He drew a circle that shut me out –
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in.

Old John and the Forest Fire (Part 3)

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
(Psalm 121:1)

Part 3 of 8
__________
Old John had just finished another careful sweep around the vast wilderness with his powerful binoculars.  Then, he made his twice-daily routine report (brief and to the point) to the ranger headquarters with his two-way radio.
He settled back, and poured himself a mug of hot coffee – which always tasted wonderful in the cool, late-afternoon air at that altitude.  As he settled into his chair, he watched with interest as thunderheads began to build up to the southwest.  It looked like a good-sized summer storm was brewing.
Old John had previously caught a glimpse of campfire smoke in a valley near the end of a ridge down southwest of his lookout.  He new there was good fishing in the streams in that area.  And, he was not surprised to see that the hikers, whose presence in the vicinity had been reported to him, had settled there about six days ago.
On a couple of occasions, he had caught glimpses of flashes of light from down there too – probably off the lenses of someone's binoculars, someone who was just curious about the lookout.  They probably wondered what kind of a person would spend his life up here – and why?
As the sun began to set, the thunderclouds were growing larger and more ominous.  They began to look quite a bit darker and more menacing as twilight began to set in.  It was still quite clear around Baldcrest Mountain.  But further to the southwest, Old John could see the first flashes of lightening.
At first, they made beautifully spectacular flashes between the clouds.  Then, one large bolt of lightening seemed to connect earth to heaven, and it lit up the whole sky down in that direction.
It was still light enough to see the tops of the forest silhouetted against the clouds and portions of the darkening sky as twilight drifted into the dark of night.  It was getting quite cool as the sun disappeared.  A stiff breeze began to blow in Old John's face as he peered intently into the growing darkness from his vantage point on the exposed walkway that extended around the perimeter of his old lookout.  He put on his warm comfortable old jacket, and sipped his coffee.  That cup of hot coffee sure felt good.
  Old John would have to keep a watchful eye to the southwest.

[To be continued - jad]

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Twelve, Five, Sixty


On December 5, 1960, I had driven across the old San Mateo Bridge in the morning, and then back home later as the sun was setting.  It looked so unusually beautiful that day, that I wanted to be able to capture it in my minds eye.  To create this memory, I decided to try to describe it in rhyme.
I stopped the car as soon as I got off the bridge that evening on the Hayward side, by the Leslie salt flats, and wrote my thoughts.
___________________
With hills of brownish green
And bay a calm as a peaceful stream,
The sight was like a beautiful dream
Of what is possible could ever seem.

Not a cloud was in the sky.
No smog got in your eye.
The day was quite unusual - like
Meeting a man who could never die.

Today's was a sight not often seen
Around our beautiful bay of green;
For the air is not often so clean
As 'twas from six am to eight this evening.

The bay looked as if 'twere lighted below
By lights caught in he undertow;
And only one who saw it would know
That it was a most marvelous show.
___________________