I'll be honest with you: life out here isn't all wimpering and suffering and hanging on by a thread, as you lay awake in your bed in the middle of the night wondering how you might retrace your steps to discover how you wound up here. Once in a while, when the weather is fair, I like to take a stroll in the nature, which everyone makes such a fuss about around here. And yesterday, I did just that. There is a whole backstory I could tell you, about how my neighbor's cat had to have it's eye removed because of a tumor, and I was horrified talking to her with her cat in a box, with the cat meowing and I was looking at it's eyes and picturing one removed and thinking nothing but to say "eek" which is what I said. And then I walked around feeling like I was going to puke. But that all just sets up the context of the walk, which was a contemplative mood about how were all doomed to have our eyes removed and how we are unable, even when we do comprehend the horror, to even articulate anything important.

But then the next day I was off on this walk, and Adam, who was with me, got to talking about various issues of the day, including the definitions of what is in our lives that we make real, like how we make up imaginary stuff that seems important, like human relations, or the sense of our own lives being worth preserving. Which, I argued, is only in our own collective heads, and not something that is real the way our fate is real, which is, of course, death. And he started in with talk of sprites in the multiverse, which, I think, is just psychedelic philosophy that doesn't stand up to scrutiny in the light of day. Which speaking of the light of day , I had on powerful sun block to protect me, seeing as how a piece of my right ear is now in an autoclave, having been removed by a dermatologist due to a skin kertaosis. So stay out of the sun.

Anyhow, it was a lovely place to discuss how we are on a doomed cold rock in a dark universe, as we walked with wild lillies growing all around, which I vaguely suspected were orchids, and a waterfall, and chimpmunks etc. To be more like Jaques Cousteau, I wore a hat. Here's me, giving the thumbs up to the whole mission. We are still in the parking area, but you can see behind me that there is fresh growth on the coniferous trees, which appears as the light yellow bits on the ends of the branches.

Even though there is mostly dry rocks underfoot, there is a cataract you come to after about four miles that has a bit of a stream running through it, with little tide basins. That bald guy is adam, not me. We had to cross that water, which was not as easy as you might suppose.

This is me, below, at the edge of the beach, where you can see the final drop of water into the mighty pacific.

Although it is not a huge waterfall, in the context, it is pretty nice. Also, you have to hike in about 5 miles to get here, so there is no one else around, which makes it seem nicer than it is.

After climbing down the incredibly steep edge to the beach, I was able to take this photo, which gives a slightly better view of the waterfall. I hope you appreciate it, because I nearly fell to my death going down there.