Shundo David Haye – Zen Priest

It has been a fine time of the year in the city, with more sun than fog, and the wind dying down some days.

On Saturday I borrowed a friend’s car and drove down the Peninsula to perform a wedding in the redwoods. I hadn’t been to this particular spot before, but it was close to roads I cycled years ago (and revisited for another wedding eighteen months ago). I would rather have been among the riders sweating slowly up the hill rather than navigating its narrow twists in a car.

The wedding itself was lovely, with an adorable flower girl and an immaculate bride. When I shared pictures with the friend who lent me her car, she remarked that the couple looked young. Indeed, they were high-school sweethearts, marrying after six years together. I said that I had more confidence in them staying together than some of the couples I meet and talk to, who have generally met online, known each other for eighteen months or two years, and sometimes don’t convince me of their unshakeable love for their intended. But, while we were encouraged at Zen Center not to perform weddings without spiritual counselling and offering follow up pastoral care as well, I rarely get to hear of the couples I have wed over the years.

On Sunday, a first roam outside the city – even if we just skirted part of Daly City as we climbed San Bruno Mountain. A late morning start time meant that the fog was doing its typical thing of hanging on the western slopes, while the bay was sunny, but when we paused at the saddle, the skies started clearing. It never completely cleared up, so we didn’t really get views to the south west or over the ocean, but we had plenty of views of the city at least. I think we wore everyone out – with a half-hour ride to and fro, I was definitely feeling it when I got home.

Finally, on Monday, the last of the Embarcadero sits after a little more than six years, as Zachary is getting too busy to be able to commit to them, and he is the person with all the cushions. It could not have been a nicer day for it, and we had our most regular regulars and a couple of other folks join us for the occasion.

The grass was a rustling with bees and other bugs; on the water, cormorants, seagulls and pelicans; in the air, dragonflies, parrots and pigeons; mobs of sparrows flitting from the olive tree to the bushes to swallow bugs. Kayaks, yachts, pleasure boats, ferries, tugs and container ships floated by; we could hear buses, streetcars, motorbikes, trucks; pedestrians, visitors, tourists, workers, joggers, dog walkers, skateboarders, scooters, cyclists, a French bulldog pulling a guy on the skateboard; regulars recognised- not the same regulars as before the pandemic, but regulars nonetheless. Unusually somebody was sitting on a bench nearby playing canned music for 45 minutes. Amid the gentle hubbub we sat, then chatted with tea, and home-made cookies until it was time to disperse.