One thousand, two hundred, and twenty eight feet
I don't know how many stairs
and rocks, and tree roots, and creek crossings
My heart beats, my blood pumps
I can hear it rushing in my ears
and the chirp of birds
and the surf, obscured by fog
as we rise higher above the sea
My lungs fill with air
and the smell of sweet fret
spicy chaparral, savory bay laurel
and a delightfully damp redwood decay
I paused between
the open field
and the forest stream
and breathe deep again
catching my breath
a catch in my breath
I am here
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