The Tamalpais Solution - Ed Coletti

[Larry Robinson]

The Tamalpais Solution
 
When asked what he did to take care of himself, 
her father John would reply, “That mountain, 
three times a week, I walk up that mountain.”
 
That eminence where meandering plants thrive
in serpentine soils, where the redwood creek
drains into the John Muir-discovered woods,
and where Arroyo Corte Madera del Presidio
cascades to Richardson’s Bay opening radiantly
upon the Golden Gate—indeed that mountain
dominating the horizon beyond his front door
as it had long before doors and houses,
animals, neighbors, humanity, et al.
 
This mountain looming many ages before 
oak and Douglas-fir began sprouting,
eons prior to any Scotsman David Douglas
at Scone Palace 1837 where the sweet quick bread
Scone (rhyming with “John”) also was born.
 
When the area began budding with people, 
the coastal Miwok believed that a witch,
not a good witch so many now prefer, but
a malignant scheming witch cast poisonous 
soap root like a fish net over this mountain 
where she dwelt glutted with venom at its peak 
where no Miwok brave dared tread lest 
long-imagined horrors would engulf them.
 
After pausing for awhile at the  top,
John looks over all that has been given,
sits to rest, unwraps his sandwich of
salami, swiss, mustard and lettuce
on rye bread and determines that for now,
“All is good,” and makes preparations
for his return home to the foothills.
 
With his back to the mountain’s peak,
John misses the Miwok witch, her arms
spread in malevolent welcome—
he, descending, unwittingly escapes
one more time until he will not again.

	- Ed Coletti