January Days

I didn't get to see Kate and Lexi at Christmas time, and missed them, so booked tickets to come out to California; I've been here for the last couple of weeks.

It's been a great visit, but I have newfound empathy for Sylvester. I can see why he was getting so stressed before we journeyed him across the country to join me. Most of the days, I've stayed at home while Kate and Lexi are off to work and school; it's not been good beach-day weather. The first two days seemed unbearably long and quiet. It was chilly and muddy outside, so hikes were out, and I felt as if I had endless hours to fill each day, waiting for their return in the late evening.

However, I am not a dog, and I have many options available to me when I want to fill my time. I can read, write, draw, bake yummy treats for everyone, and go for long walks even if the weather isn't ideal. After those first two days of adjustment, time resumed its normal pace.

The two weekends I was here flew by. Her CrossFit crew welcomed my presence for their Saturday morning group classes. (To my pleasant surprise, by scaling the workouts back just a bit, I was able to more-or-less keep up with the Joneses. And, I made it through with minimal soreness to show for it the next morning. Go, me!) The rain moved on and the temps rose into the lower sixties, warm enough to enjoy some walks on the beach.

It took a few days, but the sun managed to dry the hiking trails, so I was able to get out and about for a couple of hikes in the state park adjoining the townhouse development where Kate lives.

There's something about looking out and seeing nothing man-made in eyeshot that immediately quiets my soul (even if my view has to be strategically aimed to cut out power lines and cell towers and other detritus).

I stop, I breathe, I relax.

I remember once again that I don't have to be off on the adventure of a lifetime in order to connect with the Beauty that is. I luxuriate in the warmth of the sun on my face and arms, noticing how the warmth contrasts with the coolness of the desert air. I stop on the trail for an endless moment, watching a hawk circle lazily high and low as it scans the ground far below for its next meal. (How can it be possible he/she can see any detail on the ground below from that height?  Nature is amazing.)

It is lovely to be here, and it will be lovely to return home in a day or so. Leaving it behind for a time helps me to appreciate the beauty of the refuge my house has become for me in recent years.

Life is Good.