Yesterday ripens with fractional notes. The images grow deeper colors and tease me with degrees of clarity.  Few reversals, but amendments abound.  How often did I choose to not walk down wind, and on those occasions did my resolve last the full measure of making the point needed.  So here I am in today, looking back involuntarily when the flint is struck for no apparent reason that I can think of, taken to yet another image spent, the examination through a much wider tunnel. No use reaching for apologies, they can’t hear. The explanations left in small careful whispers, should I revisit and need to confirm a truth…

"Fire Sunset" (Mariposa Fire on the 26th of May)

The (Nearly) Phantom Ace: May 19th- hole #14 at 10:10 a.m.

The decision to “headphone it” was born more out of laziness than anything else. It was nearly 8:50 a.m. and I was sure Dick was already putting the finishing touches on the cards.  French toast and two slices of bacons later I was on the 10^th tee (the first tee was already lined with other duffers).

Head-phoned and hopeful, I played well. I never got close enough to the twosome in front of me for a “play through.”  I was determined to take my time, be deliberate and allow Dion and Belmonts, among others, to guide my play.  A misplaced ball on my second shot on 11 found me searching/singing to a Dino classic, Don McGuire who had been making reparations around the course joined me in my search and subsequent discovery of my ball.  I thanked him and absently returned to my music, little did I know that Don would play a critical role a few holes later. 

It was windy on the 14^th tee, the couple ahead of me had just replaced the blue flag, and the breeze teased the blue cloth making me again doubt my choice of irons.  The Grassroots were halfway through “Midnight Confessions” when I decided it was safe to hit. The 5-iron appeared to behave at first strike, the gradual draw intensified and helped the Taylor spin as it came down mid-green—the roll after was the rub.  The ball appeared to disappear, into to the cup!  I suddenly wondered if indeed I hadn’t just hit the ball over the green. I realized no one probably saw it!! I was thinking the only more incredible thing would be if Marvin Gaye was in my headphone singing, “Can I get a Witness.”

I looked at the couple heading to the 15^th tee, hoping they might have looked back saw the phenomena I was only in half belief of—nothing.  I pulled off my headphones and immediately remembered Don! I turned around there he was! I yelled, and he looked up.  I was willing to be caught being foolish, golf offers that one on a daily basis.  I told him,  “ Hey, I’m not sure, but I think I just hit an ace, of course I might have also just hit it over the green, would you check this out with me?” Don being Don replied, “Why sure!”  Then asked what kind of ball, I told him. I knew my red line would identify it as well.  We drove the length of the hole and he walked over to the pin, looked down, looked at me, then he waved at my ball in the cup!  11 years since my one and only ace at Sea Ranch (6-iron 160 yards)

Man, I love the Grassroots!

Spring!