Exploring the canyons of the mind in the morning, a final theory holiday,
producing the woodwind parts for Block Four of Camino Real,
Harriet and I head to Napa on this brilliant day (apparently finally reaching 100 degrees), back to Dry Creek Canyon, for a surprisingly cooler walk south between an east face of chaparal slopes and a western one of deep green conifers.
Heading downhill, near a canyon-niche row of tires,
at a brisk clip (law abidingly under 25mph), past madrone,
and a westside house
with a patterned roof.
Careful not to linger,
by horizontal limbs,
the trees close in,
opening to a tawny lawn.
watched over by a sunny eastside spread,
and a dinosaurian-macabre bird of prey -- preening,
posing,
spreading its portentous pneumatic purveyors (to my pretentious prose).
Trees with outstretched arms,
an eastside house with a happy-face front door and tall eucalyptus,
political signs
before a moony cliff,
oak grasslands and suspicious summits,
dapples of sun and shade
lead back to back to stately cypress by the creek crossing.
Downslope on Oakville Grade to the Napa Valley near Yountville
(with views north of vineyards and Mt. St. Helena),
we dine by the windows
at Brix,
with its views north
of a distant Mt. St. Helena,
east to intimate vineyards
with a turreted castellated edifice on high,
and west to cool rural vantages.
Closer to home, light poles
and storage units cast de Chirico shadows away from the setting sun in the Vaca Mountains.
