It's hard to let go of the magic.

You never know until it's there. You know, a special day of golf.

Met a golf bud of mine at one of my least favorite courses for some late afternoon golf yesterday. He was late (as usual) and we didn't tee off until 4:15.

Smashed a nice 3 wood off the first tee down the left center. Should have been perfect. Instead, I nearly didn't find it. Turns out it was in some old, muddy tire tracks.

Bogey...bogey...bogey...double. 

Each bogey a missed par put that coulda (but didn't) fall.

Sigh.

Then, a hard working par.

Then, a really good drive on a tight par 5 and a 3 wood onto the front of the green with a front pin.

Tap in birdie.

Followed by a bogey.

But then, easy par, easy par shoulda been a birdie on a long par 3 over water.

The sun fell behind the San Rafael Hills before we finished the 9th.

But, we carried on until it was too dark to see and almost too dark to drive the cart back. The darker it got, the better I hit it. My last shot was a hybrid to a back pin of long par three.

Yellow ball...saw it sail over the flag.

No, didin't make it, but tapped in for par.

We finished 14 holes, putted out on all of 'em. It was one of the only times I have ever been glad I was in a cart. It would have been impossible to cover the ground on foot in the time we had.

It's a long golf course...

Anyway, the whole thing, going from the late start, to being unlucky and annoyed on the first, to going from bad to good (and even better than good) then toward the dark, had that odd and wonderful kind of buzz only golf can deliver.

I'm playing again in a couple hours, but I almost don't want to go.

It's hard to let go of the magic.