Walking around the clear creek nature preserve

We got up at 7am the next morning (5am Pacific time), and Mike prepared an enormous breakfast of chocolate and blueberry crêpes with cream cheese, scrambled eggs, and fried ham. Then Joy, Amanda, and I walked a mile down to the clear creek natural heritage center where we did a slow 4-mile hike around the sanctuary. I recorded our path on my phone as we went and by the time we returned we'd walked 7.4 miles and saw 33 bird species (6 of which Amanda added to her life list).

It had rained a few days before, and the trails were coated in a fine sticky clay that grew layer upon layer on our shoes as we walked, picking up pine needles, sticks, and other debris until each foot weighed 15 pounds. The sticks that caught in these layers brushed against my calves with each step and rustled the bushes along the path. The mud would build up, thicker and thicker, and then squish out the sides, curling up over our toes like Arabian slippers. We scraped it off on logs and the sharp edges of the planks that made up the wooden walkways, but it would build up again.

Joy reminisced about growing up poor. She claimed they survived on a diet of honeysuckle nectar, crawdads, and chives.

When we returned to the house, we discovered Mike had gone out and bought pastries, including a chocolate birthday cake for Amanda. We ate lemon bars, carrot cake, and an assortment of muffins, Joann opened a bottle of champagne, and we chased the sweets with toast and tomatoes.

That evening Mike prepared lasagna with salad, and Curtis broke out a bottle of red wine. Joy had brought a large bottle of table wine, but Mike said it was too sweet to consume. Apparently living with Curtis the sommelier had spoiled their palates.

After dinner, we sat in the living room with the muted TV showing college basketball highlights and Mike asked about the crime situation in the central valley and why I was writing code in the rust programming language.