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I was obsessed with personifying Time in the guise of Father Time for New Year’s and the morning following that miserable run to the Armstrong Woods I drove out with LGID to Jenner Beach to acquire the Staff of Time.  I had been gathering all of the Articles of Time but two objects were missing; both the Staff and the Sands of Time.  I knew that I would find the Staff of Time on the beach at Jenner and maybe the sands there would prove to have some magic.  I visualized this so clearly I knew the Staff of Time would manifest itself there.

I parked on a bluff over looking the beach.  The sun was out and it was one of those awesome Northern Californian days in the winter when not only does the surf break but the sun does too.  Surfers were out, notable for their foreign accents, as Mavericks was on the verge of being called.  The trail leading down to the beach was slick, steep and muddy.  Tasty to me, but LGID was discontented to break it.  He stayed up on the bluff by the car not wanting to venture.  Disappointing to me, but confirming my reason for not wanting to be his lover.  I hiked down to this wild beach, intrepid in my Coach boots, thrilled by the sun and the perfection of creation.  Because of the storms and its geographical location at the mouth of the Russian River, Jenner is strewn with driftwood.  All I had to do was divine the Staff of Time as I wandered the beach looking for the appropriate staff to select me.  I found it quite right off.  This crooked and pitted driftwood root came to the height of my face and had a nook a hand’s width from its tip; perfect for notching in an hour glass or festooning it with a banner.  I stuck the staff upright in the sand, letting it weather, seeing if it would reclaim itself as I walked northward along the beach in search of a potential other.  This end was abandoned and the sun was warming me up enough where I could have taken off my shirt, but as it was I just stripped off my Adidas track jacket, tied it around my waist and continued in my thermal.  I passed a beach condo built by a sea comber furnished with a dining room table and stump chairs on its lower floor and a rope swing on its second story deck.  Inspecting the shelter I realized it was semi-permanent and had seen regular use.

Walking down the beach alone charged with the magic of my quest I could only think how awesome it would be to be on this mission with a lover, sharing the fantasy of Time and ducking into one of those shelters to make love or just sit out on the sand near the shore break making out for a portion of eternity.  And of course that lover I imagine is Ionass, not the LGID on the bluff who plays it way too safe and doesn’t share my sense of adventure.  Nor can he ski.  Mind, I am grateful for his companionship and appreciative of how he helped to nurse my burns but really I think he realizes, as I do, that to spend time with me will prevent him from getting what he wants from another man.  Cute as he is, there is no volatility in our chemistry.  We neutralize each other rather than complement one another.

Returning to reclaim the Staff of Time with these thoughts on the periphery and the Pacific Ocean and Jenner’s dramatic coastal outcroppings more proximal I was pleased to see a small songbird perched atop the Staff of Time.  A good portent indeed because, as should be known by all, Father Time is the Consort of Mother Nature.  Hiking back up the slippery muddy slope using the Staff of Time as a walking stick I was gifted with a beautiful view of a surfer’s naked ass as he struggled into his tight fitting black neoprene wet suit.  Beautiful indeed. Quest complete.

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