Historic G Ranch Cemetery

Historic G Ranch Cemetery
.5 miles
1 hour
Start: Sir Francis Drake Boulevard
End: Sir Francis Drake Boulevard
Includes: Schooner Creek, Sir Francis Drake Boulevard, Historic G Ranch Cemetery

Hike 12
March 8, 2013
Knight of Swords
Conviction

The knight-of-swords shows a young man on a horse racing with great conviction towards his goal. Thinking is over and thought become action directed towards an objective.

With this card in mind, I headed from Schooner Creek to the Historic G Ranch Cemetery. This was a shorter walk because the kids were out of school and wanted to come along. Everyone seemed to think cemeteries are spooky.

The wind was strong and biting cold. We parked at the head of the road to Drakes Bay Oysters. It was Melinda, Desmond and new walkers, our good pals: Simone, Blu and Billie.

We crossed the street and headed past the giant US Department of Homeland Security sign.

There was a bit of a struggle to get Billie's stroller over the cow gate. We passed a hefty solar-powered, security camera and our progress was impeded by an imposing No Trespassing sign. Big Brother was even here, at the end of the world.

We redirected left, up the path to the Historic G Ranch Cemetery. The cemetery dates from the late 1800's and sits within a lush eucalyptus grove overlooking the distant sea.

Blu and Desmond were serious and still as I recounted the story of George Larson dying in the line-of-duty while trying to save people trapped in the stormy surf.

Many a boat was stranded on the rocks around Point Reyes. The Life-Saving Station was eventually moved nearer the lighthouse, where it still stands today.

Billie climbed over the graves, blessedly oblivious. Her brother Blu, on the other hand, insisted I read each gravestone: apparently seeking answers to this great mystery.

At the edge of the graveyard, Melinda excused herself and headed back toward the car. The wind was very cold and she was recovering from a chill. I guess a graveyard is not the place to warm-up. After a little look around, Simone and Billie also fled the cold. Blu ran off to join them.

Desmond and I lingered. It is a strangely beautiful spot. The eucalyptus are huge and out-of-place as non-natives. Seasonal miner's lettuce intermingles with lush and deadly hemlock. Just in case, we kept Billie from eating the familiar lettuce.

The whole enclave of smooth trees, picket fences and marble gravestones overlooks the estuaries and oceans of the Point Reyes peninsula. It is good to recall the people who have lived and died here.

I relish this precious moment of being alive with my beautiful boy. I bring him to these places so he can learn about the world. In Point Reyes, because of the open space, we have the benefit of discerning the interplay between humans and nature.

He sees the No Trespassing sign and wonders what it means. I think of the knight-of- swords charging ahead on his white steed. If we follow the knight past the No Trespassing sign, what will we find: some of his compatriots settled in a military camp plotting strategies and operations against real or imagined enemies?

With my feet firmly planted in the soil, this seems quite fantastic: closing off a piece of wilderness for the specific purpose of keeping people out. What if we informed with heart, our mental conviction for a need for security? How would that look?

That might look like an open road a mom, her little boy and her friends could walk down. At the end of the road we might find a camp of open-hearted, brilliant strategist ready to share the solutions they have discovered.

We could make connection, know each other and understand. As it is, heartless conviction has closed that road to friend and foe. In the absence of connection, it is hard to know who is what.

Anyway, the day is beautiful; I rejoice in the opportunity to walk this field of all possibilities with my dear son, friends and the memories of those departed. Today, we are in this field seeking the seeds we wish to plant for the future harvest.

May we choose our seeds well and dispatch our young, exuberant knights-of-swords to good purpose for the future.