Today my goal was to find the buffalo. And I did, actually I was there just a couple of days ago on my bike, but never realized that the tree stumps in the meadow were actually bison. So today, I found the buffalo for a second time. I am glad I reached my lazy saturday goal, however, a little disappointed in the gigantic beasts. Maybe I was hoping for something a little more stimulating, like crazy, rabid buffalo fighting over territory. Bashing their heads together and scraping their feet in the dirt, alerting the others that they might charge and kick some buffalo ass. Or perhaps I was hoping there were be some crazy natives (golden gate park natives might come in the form of drugged out hippies or Janis Joplin look-alikes – wait she was a drugged out hippie) stalking their prey in the wilderness, hiding behind bushes and rocks with giant bow and arrows or spears, ready to take home a bit o' buffalo meat for the kids. Instead I found a few buffalo sitting on the ground, not moving, looking like tree stumps. I took a picture and went looking for the Dutch windmill. This was much more pleasing. As the feirce winds of the Pacific practically kept my wheels from turning, I saw the magnificence of the giant windmill. It was surrounded my lovely flower beds and little pathways leading into the forest. Its massive arms looked over the Pacific Ocean and cliffside houses which were hanging on for dear life. I rode along the ocean front, fighting the winds and loosing battles with the sand that left welts on my arms and flew under my eyelids. The beach looked nice, but being there was a different story. I quickly escaped back into the park where I would not be bothered by the evil forces of nature, the Pacific is like the Darth Vader of seas.

As I made my way back into the city, I stopped a few times along the way to capture images via and pen and paper – images of the Conservatory of flowers, weird dinosaur-looking ducks and fantastic stone pillars hidden behind brush and dark shadows. I will return tomorrow, but instead I might take a different route. I heard of a better beach in the Presidio which sits under the Golden Gate Bridge perhaps I will go see that one and hopefully not get killed by flying sand particles or kites.