Saturday evening D. and I attended the full moon walk given by a National Park Service ranger at the Pt. Bonita Lighthouse right outside the Golden Gate. It's the place where he proposed last autumn. ("He" meaning D., not the park ranger.) Only this time we had to share the evening with 60 other people all there to appreciate the beauty of San Francisco's twinkling jewel night lights framed behind the majestically glowing golden lights of the Golden Gate Bridge, under the just-risen full moon.
Before the walk began, I saw a juvenile bobcat nonchalantly strolling past the edge of the parking area. At first I thought it was a feral manx cat, with a stubby tail, very unusual. But a closer look at its ears told me it was no manx, it was a bobcat with the little lynx-style black ear tips. Then a few minutes later we saw 3 black-tailed deer out for an evening forage.
We also saw a lot of "feral cabbage," wild cabbages descended from the ones planted by lighthouse keepers in their vegetable gardens on the lighthouse grounds. They bear only a vague resemblance to their domesticated cousins.
To reach the lighthouse itself, we had to descend a steep hill, pass through a hand-carved tunnel and then cross a narrow suspension bridge. The little bridge is so fragile that only 2 people are allowed on it at a time, and a park ranger stood by supervising its occupancy. Rather than be dwelling on the relative safety of the bridge, D. and I focused on vigorously discussing the cuteness of puppies as we traversed its short length.
Looking south into the City. The south tower of the Golden Gate Bridge is on the left.
Deer out for an evening snack near the trailhead.
Pretty daffodils brighten up the trail.
The lighthouse at Pt. Bonita.
The lighthouse and part of the rickety suspension bridge, its only access.
The Marin hills and the Bridge glow with the sunset's ruddy light.
The sun standing over the horizon.
The Farallon Islands seem to float over the sea due to a temperature inversion.
Pacific Ocean sunset.
The full moon rising in the east.
The Crow Moon (name for March's full moon). It was bright enough to light our way back to the truck, casting faint shadows on the trail.