Success, by Lion Feuchtwanger
The pictures are now available from our Point Reyes weekend. J. Random Wonderbear and I escaped the city and two lengthy open houses (at our house, during which we have to be….elsewhere) last weekend to head north to the tiny seaside town of Inverness, in the Point Reyes State Park. Migrating pregnant whales, enough sea air to run the fustiness out of your head and gentle quiet mornings surrounded by the greenwood. The cottage we rented had an excellent bed which I would return
for alone. It was in addition spacious and had beautiful double decking. The picture above is of The J. and a friend he picked up on Drake’s Beach. The surf was very spanky and several surfers actually made an afternoon of it. You can see a wave rolling in at right with the fingerlet of Drake’s Estero jutting into the sea on the left. The best oysters come from this sheltered estuary, or so we’re told.
Lionized…
On an afternoon’s jaunt into Point Reyes Station’s only bookseller, I found a basket of intriguing blank journals made from the covers of old books whose pages had fallen into disrepair. The 
covers, all from the early 1900’s, were spiral-bound with new blank paper. I was about to leave when I spotted "Success…" by one Lion Feuchtwanger, which I purchased. I had no idea who Lion Feuchtwanger was but being a success-oriented life coach, I was intrigued. This is what I wrote on the first few pages:
"I don’t know who you are Lion Feuchtwanger, but thanks and blessings to you for volunteering to be one of the patron saints of my Success."
Now I find that Feuchtwanger was an influential Jewish writer and "a distinguished member of the post-World War I German literary scene, lived and wrote in political exile for the last quarter-century of his life. His masterwork, Success, is one of the great novels of the 20th century." (source: Bookrags) What better a spirit mentor could a writer choose than the writer of a great novel? I am ordering the English translation of Erfolg, or Success and will read with interest this "thinly veiled potshot at the Nazi war machine".
J-Bear kindly bought me a lovely book on women pioneers, both European and minority, that you can also see in this picture and the local grocery store, always a plethora of rich, healthy and healthfood-type goodies, yielded up Jungle Chocolate, which is cacao bean with honey and nothing else. Vended in tobaccolike shreds, this particular package also included macadamia nut bits. If you’re avoiding chocolate due to all the additives, try Jungle Chocolate, "the world’s purest chocolate from pod to package". Its taste is both simple and suprisingly elegant.
I went out on the wonderful second-story deck of our vacation cottage to bask in the gentle sun under the madrone, oak and ash trees and read. I took The J’s mp3 player with me, Mr. Lion, a wonderful mug of pure Kona coffee and wrote…
"I have imbibed the nectar of treesilence here, and witnessed mistressful feats of weaving - silks so fine only faeries could set the warp and weft, spun by invisible fiber-witches, each with eight spindles… The speech of trees is slow, silent, soft and sibilant with whispered secrets. We’ve seen hares, thrush, Reynard-the-fox, finches, grackles, buzzards, ravens, eagles, 2 Pepe Le Pew’s - one’s signature tail spotted, the second’s calling card briefly - pungently - detected upon an evening’s soft zephyr. Small, soft eyed, green-and-yellow striped newts and other small creatures appear when humans are silent and respectful in the wild."
The shy Tule elk didn’t look up as we passed on our way back from the beach. We took in favorite Drake’s Beach around the headland from
the estero (whence JBear’s yummy oysters came, on our first night here), and wilder, gritter North Beach, much more to my taste. North Beach had a sharp drop-off in the sand just prior to the waveline. We sat on this as a mini-cliff and watched the water come in under our dangling feet. I built an Incan sunwheel in the sand, crowned with a dried jellyfish fin flag on a driftwood pole, and we watched with delight a dragon kite breasting the wild winds and tearing through them to harry passing gulls with gusto.
All in all, it was one of those perfect weekends destined to go down in family history as "them was the days". I am profoundly glad and grateful that we are able to do such things, to take ourselves away when the stress of our living/house selling conditions become unpleasant. Here, there is such beauty, such silence, the sounds only natural ones that caress and please the ear, in sharp contrast to the din of the city. In our house, we must spray artificial freshener whenever potential buyers come to view the place, lest a stray improper scent (we have kitties) put them off the idea. The scents here in the wild are of pine, madrone, sea and fresh air. A balm to the spirit.
Standing on the headland, with bay on my left hand and open sea on my right, breathing deeply of the wild and deeply invigorating air, I ask myself - what better gift than this could one have?
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