I am finally posting about my Filoli nature hike. I know that all 2 of my readers have been sitting on the edge of their seats in anticipation. Alas, the wait is over!
So in late April as an early Mother's Day activity, my mom and I took part in a nature hike at Filoli. A group of 25-30 people got up early to meet 3 nature hike guides in the parking lot before breaking off into small groups of around 8-10 each. We got matched with an elderly gentleman named Bill. Sporting cargo shorts with suspenders, knee high socks, and a little magnifying glass dangling around his neck, Bill struck us as cute, but we definitely had doubts about how agile and qualified he'd be as the leader of our pack.
Looks couldn't be more deceiving!
Bill has been leading tours since the 70s and he's been coming up on these foothills bordering the San Andrea's Fault even before then! He's incredibly knowledgeable and quick on his feet. He's feet seemed to float down each path we took as if he's traversed the trail a thousand times before. Full of energy, Bill couldn't help but show his appreciation and love for each and every species of plant, flower, and even weed. He told us funny anecdotes and helpful nicknames that would help us memorize different plants. For example, Hosta has a white vertical line running from one end of its leaf to the other giving the appearance of "spilt milk." Another little personal anecdote he shared with us was his first experience at summer camp. The camp counselor handed him an empty burlap sack right off the bus, pointed him in the direction of a large field, and told him to fill up the sack with the weeds growing. Turns out the "weed" was commonly used for mattresses and that the sack was to be his mattress that summer.I have a picture of Bill, which I will try to dig up from my hard-drive sometime.
As our nature hike drew to an end, he stopped us in front of Filoli's compost station. They had 3 or 4 large heaps of compost deteriorating ready to be used as they rotated from the first heap to the last heap. Very cool. As we were admiring the 30 feet tall mountains of compost, Bill dug a plastic container out from the pocket of his shorts. He popped off the cap and pulled out something by a pink tail. Turns out it was a stuffed mole. He urged us to gather round a pet the fur, which he assured us was smooth and one-directional. As I petted the little gray pellet lying his Bill's palm, I naively asked, "Is it real?"
Bill looked at me surprised. "I only do real" was his reply.
I should have guessed. Bill is old-school, old-world, and charming and awesome because of it. He doesn't do technology, he only does reality.
:)
