One of the lovely features of the northern California coastline is its signature cypress tree. Fed by the cooling Pacific fog and influenced by its breezes, the cypress is easily recognized by its deep-green foliage, contorted trunk, and wind-bent aspect. Point Reyes Station is blessed with an abundance of these trees, so much so that one of our few streets is named Cypress. In a section of Route 1 just beyond my home, the road-flanking cypresses form a canopy, and like an honor guard, they welcome my arrival or send me on my way. They offer their branches as nests for the red-tailed hawks that sit on my fences by day and the owls that perch on my roof at night.
May brought a new dimension for me in the word “cypress”, when my niece Caroline gave birth to a daughter and christened her Cypress. What a sweet and alert baby she is, with a sturdy body that is worthy of her name. I hope that she, too, will soak up what life offers her, that she will bend but not break, and that she will continue to delight all who look upon her.
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