And then there, right across my path, loped a huge coyote. He was so big, at first, I thought he was a wolf. Then I remembered wolves don't live in Point Reyes. He looked thirsty; we were into a long drought. He was walking, head down, in the direction of the point. There was that fresh water pond where the tule elk go.

It's hard to imagine living here. The weather sweeps in and out uninhibited by this little sliver of land. The terrain is grass, grass and more grass. It's isolated by water on three sides. The people who lived here had each other and a lot of cows for company. I'm sure the solitude suited some, but others must have gone mad.

I ponder the elk and the cows, pick-up trash and swoon under the influence of nature's beauty.

About forty-five minutes into the walk runs a line of white boulders the native Miwok refer to as the Spirit Jumping-off Place.