i remember the islet off of the island the spanish i guess called gaviola. i felt the spirit rise of a fellow who died there. the salish people didn't have a name for it. it was covered with petroglyphs under moss i imagine covered with houses now. i just thought of this place, while thinking of the cat, and the zionists, and maybe because i was thinking about pebble beach, my secret place in the city. i think i try to honor the way thoughts go and the mind works. my mind at least. a lot of what transpires in the world is incomprehensible to me. the status quo i guess.