It feels now as if I am hunted

High above Tomales Bay, deep in the mist of Inverness Ridge, a forgotten cabin stands between tangled ferns and time, its fate uncertain. Once filled with lives lived and dreams dreamt, it now waits—perhaps for wind, gnawing mice, a coyote's howl, or years of quiet decay to finally claim it. Someday it may return to soil, feeding a bishop pine that will rise toward the heavens in its place. Its story, though nearly lost, can still be found in what we remember and capture. As modern life rushes forward, we must look back, and hold on to the warm places, memories, and faces we still cling to, if only for a moment.