I know of a place along the Coyote Creek where time can stand
perfectly still. Or so it seems
…
Right now, I’m at that enchanted place scribbling down
meandering notions on a late Wednesday afternoon. I feel relaxed
and mellow as I write this.
I know of a place along the Coyote Creek where time can stand perfectly still. Or so it seems …
Right now, I’m at that enchanted place scribbling down meandering notions on a late Wednesday afternoon. I feel relaxed and mellow as I write this.
Do forgive me, but I happen to be in a Henry David Thoreau kind of mood at this moment. My thoughts now meander lazily – just like this tranquil stream I sit next to. Good old Thoreau had his Walden Pond. I have the Coyote Creek.
Here it is, beyond this patch of wild thistle and mustard weeds, let me show you my secret spot by the stream. The silvery clouds above reflect in the olive green waters below. They foretell the chance of a coming rain, but we don’t care. We’ll just enjoy this moment.
Down the stream a bit by those tule reeds over yonder, there drifts up to us the cheerful gurgle of creek water splashing playfully over rocks. Across on the opposite bank, sycamore trees stand like silent sentinels. They guard a sacred grove.
Nearby, a little lizard performs pushups on a creek-side rock. He eyes us suspiciously. In the water, a school of tiny fish larvae hoover by their protective algae-enveloped stones.
We here in the South Valley are lucky to have so many fine creeks to enjoy. The Coyote, the Uvas, the Pajaro and the Llagas – all excellent creeks. San Benito County has a “river” it was named after. But for much of the year, this waterway would be more honestly described as a creek. In hot summer months, it dries up into a sandy channel.
South Valley would never really have been a valley at all without our creeks. It was the persistent forces of their flowing water that, over the long expanse of time, carved the valley plain from the mountains. Long before the first humans ever set foot on the valley’s fertile soil, the creeks sculpted our landscape.
Look up at the sky now as the darkening clouds close in on the last patches of blue. Without clouds, there’d be no Coyote Creek to sit next to on this late afternoon. The water above replenishes the water below – a never-ending circle.
This rain cycle has been going on for billions of years – since long before even life itself first appeared here on Earth. Mother Nature is a huge fan of circles, it seems. She is the ultimate recycler.
The sun now creates a halo through the haze of the clouds.
To my eyes, that ball of light seems very close – near enough for that passenger plane now descending towards San Jose to fly to. But that’s an illusion.
As any school kid will tell you, the sun’s 93 million miles away – give or take a mile. And any kid will tell you, it’s that faraway star up there that powers Earth’s rain cycle.
Its radiant heat constantly evaporates the surface of our oceans and lakes and ponds to generate the clouds that feed the Coyote Creek.
Without the sun’s blessing, no stream or brook would ever flow here in the South Valley – or anywhere else on our planet.
As the clouds congregate and start to eat away at the sun’s halo, my imagination takes me deep into the heart of our life-giving star. I voyage down to its very core. It’s here that the sun’s hydrogen fuel undergoes its nuclear transformation.
Albert Einstein revealed Mother Nature’s amazing secret. See, under the intense heat and pressure down there, the hydrogen atoms fuse together, triggering a release of the massive energy stored in their nuclear hearts.
At the sun’s center, countless photons – little packets of light – rip out of the nucleus of hydrogen atoms in a never-ceasing series of atomic explosions. These photons find their way to the sun’s surface and stream away into the vacuum of space.
Most head straight into the blackness of the universe -– perhaps a few reaching worlds far, far away. But a tiny percentage manage to find Earth. And some of them now finish their 93 million mile journey to pass through the cloud layer above and reach their destination – the Coyote Creek.
Some of these photons will be stored in the cells of the trees and grass and weeds growing along the Coyote Creek. The process of photosynthesis lets vegetation all around us to store sunlight – like living solar-powered batteries.
After we leave, a hungry bucktail deer will come along to the creek and nibble on the plants, thus absorbing its sun energy.
And later, a hungry mountain lion might hunt down that deer and eat it and thus continue the passage of energy.
From the hydrogen heart of the sun to the belly of a carnivore, everything in the universe is connected. That’s easy to see when your thoughts meander in a timeless place along the Coyote Creek.
Our meandering stream also shows us everything’s connected by time as well as space. Fill a drinking glass with creek water. Scientists will tell you a few of those H2O molecules inside that glass once upon a time were inside the bodies of Julius Caesar and Abraham Lincoln and Jesus Christ and Alexander the Great and everyone else who ever walked on earth.
No doubt, randomly-selected water molecules in that glass will one day find their way into all the people on earth living a thousand years hence. An amazing thought to consider this quiet afternoon sitting along the creek bank.
The wind picks up, blowing the sycamores and Russian thistle and wild mustard plants.
As a sprinkle of rain ripples the creek’s surface, a quote from Thoreau’s Walden comes to mind: “Time is the stream I go a-fishing in.” A good quote.
Sitting here beside the banks of the Coyote Creek as the late afternoon sun drifts toward misty mountains, I feel the presence of an intense enchantment. I truly know of a place where time can stand still.
River Cleanup
Saturday is National River Cleanup Day. Volunteers are needed to clear out trash and litter that has collected along urban areas of several creeks in the South Valley. All the events will take place between 9am and noon.
Location:
Coyote Lake County Park, 10840 Coyote Lake Road, Gilroy
Number of volunteers needed:
10 or more – Registration required
Site Coordinator: Chris Crockett, Santa Clara County Parks, (408) 842-7800
Location:
Chesbro Reservoir, off of Oak Glen Road, Gilroy
Number of volunteers needed:
10 to 20 – Registration required
Site Coordinator:
John Heenan, Santa Clara County Parks, (408) 842-2341
Location:
Edmundson Creek between La Crosse Drive and Vineyard Blvd, Morgan Hill.
Number of volunteers needed:
25 – Registration necessary, but volunteers are welcome to register at the sign-in table
Site Coordinator:
Bev Deveaux, Santa Clara Valley Water District, (408)
265-2607, x2255
Location:
Llagas Creek between Villa Ciolino and Edmundson Avenue, Morgan Hill
Number of volunteers needed:
25 – Registration required
Site Coordinator:
Ken Mort, San Pedro Ponds Volunteer, (408) 776-2933
