Family Hike at a Preserve

Grand vistas from Zinfandel Trail.
J’s babble morphs into a coo
that could be an expression of awe.
Shifting his weight in the carrier,
he eats a midmorning snack
and looks behind him at his mom. 
He seems to like our family hikes.

Back under the cover of woods,
a large hawk’s imposing shadow
passes over the canopy.
If we were in the Amazon,
this could be a real threat: eagles
with talons larger than bear claws
able to pluck our son from my back.

Though we are not part of a tribe
who lives deep in the rainforest,
even here close to suburbs
mountain lions have a presence –
and wild things do not always shun
our encroachment of their domain. 
“If attacked, fight back!” a sign says. 

My mind considers our options: 
sticks, rocks, fists… humble arsenal. 
When did I stop packing a knife? 
Some loose gravel on a steep slope
reminds me that the true danger
to myself as well as to J
is from slipping and falling down. 

I concentrate on my footing. 
Steadily, we descend a hill. 
No pumas emerge from the trees
before we return to the car,
though lizards in the underbrush
scrabbling among twigs and leaves
make noise enough to race my heart.