Things are winding down.
We have only one day left until we leave California.
Yesterday, we spent a very quiet day hiking out to the ocean through the Tennessee Valley.
Before we left for our trip, my friends in New York asked me if coming back would make me feel homesick. At the time, I didn't think so, but it has. There is a part of me that doesn't want to leave.
I mean, how could you not miss this?
The thing is, it goes beyond missing one thing or another. It is the whole package. I miss our friends. I miss our community. I miss our town. I miss the city. But most of all I miss the day to day living with its people and its beauties that enabled me to see the subtleties of the California landscape. For instance, at sunset the sun, has a very special way of shining on the buildings that tumble down to the ocean. It bathes them in a gentle gold light that makes you feel like everything in the world is good and wholesome. A little later in the evening, in the gloaming before darkness falls, I love the dark silhouette of the cypress trees against the indigo colored sky. They are so majestic. Most days on the the peninsula, you can see the fog roll in over the hills like creeping benevolent entity, bringing with it cool refreshing air and moisture. We called it "fog ocean" and it does look like a big fog wave creeping over the hills, spinning delicate tendrils into the ravines. Have I mentioned that I love the climate here? Ah...I do.
You just cannot experience everything in two weeks time. For one thing, we have been busy rushing around seeing friends and eating our favorite foods, which I wouldn't trade for anything in the world, but rushing makes it impossible to experience the solitary, precious, private moments that I so desperately crave. What I have found is that even with such a generous amount of time, you cannot focus on both the people and food AND the tiny, quiet details.
I think my favorite way to travel is to just be in a place and experience the daily minutia. Most often, this is just not possible. But it is the best way to get a sense of a place, its personality, its treasures.
What may come as a surprise to those of my friends and family who might think I overindulge my melodramatic, morose side, is that I actually miss New York and my silly, smelly little dog. We have some good friends there. It is our home now and though our house itself is less than ideal in many ways, it is where we can let our guard down and relax. You can't beat that kind of comfort.
It didn't take me long, upon moving east, to fall in love with the varying shades and abundance of summer green; you know how much I love color. We never really had much green in California in the summer. By the end of June, the California hills get something we lovingly call "California gold" which occurs when sun dries the grasses and wind rattles through them like waves in an ocean. It has its own kind of beauty, but I remember how long it took me to get used to it. And though there is green in the trees here, it is of a different quality. You cannot beat lush moist green grass and the cool shade of a deep green maple tree.
And AUTUMN is coming with its many colors and the fragrant smell of decaying leaves. There is something so very beautiful and fitting about the changing of seasons which we missed in California. It is fascinating to watch the subtle changes in color the meadows wear over the summer in New York. In the spring, everything wears such a sweet innocent new green, as the summer progresses, the plants take on the deeper verdant green of vibrant living, growing things, but by the end of the summer, the fields take on a purple-y, yellow hue which signifies the beginning of harvest. You can watch it like a clock. While I could do without the months of snow and ice, these climatic cycles do seem natural in the cycle of life.
Enough of that...you've been following my rambling mind long enough.
Today we enjoy one last day in California...
...tomorrow we begin our journey through the heartland.
