the most wonderful time of the year

I love this time of year, when everything is alive and bright and vibrant one minute then falling the next. Feels like life … things are great one minute then not so much the next.

the best adventure

Interesting weekend in California. Quite the adventure. Learned there’s more to San Diego than what most photos show. It’s beautiful and ugly at the same time. There is, certainly, the stunning coast. But there are also tons of nasty areas and dirt and grime and everything that comes with city life.

 

The drive an hour outside the city had me attempting to videotape with my cell phone while driving down the highway. Which is not easy since using a cell while driving is against the law here … so using it up against the window was kinda obvious and I’m guessing it’s not that smart to attempt to videotape with a phone while driving. Duh. But I couldn’t believe my eyes. The terrain was so … unpredictable. On one side of the highway it looked like a rock giant (think Neverending Story kinda rock giant. Yeah. That guy) had eaten a huge chunk of rock and crumbled huge boulder crumbs all along the hillsides. On the other, it was green and lush. Made absolutely no sense to me how on one side of a highway it was green and alive and on the other it looked more like the surface of some distant planet.

 

I also hiked up into the woods on the side of Volcan Mountain (not too far … but just enough), and took a long, deep breath. Then I smiled. The crisp, clean air filled my lungs and made me miss living away from city life. Away from exhaust. Close to nature. There’s nothing like it, really. That whiff of clean air. People here probably take it for granted. The views as well. Nobody can appreciate this view, this splendor, as much as they should. It’s too stunning for words.

And if you still have a glimpse of nature in your back yard, you’re lucky. Not like those poor people who live in LA. Agh. When I flew in there I almost wept. The smog line hovering over the city was embarrassing and horrific. I have heard about it but never seen it like that. It was disgusting.

And then something amazing happened. While standing surrounded by all the dead, twisted, charcoal-colored crisp skeletons that once were trees, now ravaged by a fire that had hit a couple years ago, I realized something. I was surrounded by death and destruction, and yet … I felt so alive. Being close to nature does this to me. I feel energized. Ready to take on the world. Ready to tackle my dreams … no mountain is too high to climb, I guess.

 

So, my advice? Go out into nature. Enjoy it. Smell it. Lie in it. Rub the dirt between your thumb and fingers. Take a deep breath. Listen to its sounds. Linger. Walk down that path even if you don’t know where it goes. Hell. Walk down it ESPECIALLY if you don’t know where it goes. That’s the best kind of adventure.

life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have driven past this old cemetery thousands of times. I always glance over and take a peek. Not sure what I think I’m going to see. It’s always empty. I can honestly say in all my years living near this small spot of land, I have never seen a single person visiting, leaving flowers … nothing.

I have stopped twice now to take photos. I hope I’m not the only visitor.

I wish I could sit down in the cool, crisp autumn grass and whisper to the stones. I wish I could hear their stories. I wish I knew who these people were. How they died. Do they still have family around these woods? What did this area look like when they were buried here? Obviously the houses next to the cemetery weren’t there. So what was? Woods? Most likely.

I have a lot of questions.

This time I took my kids. Stopped on a whim when passing this past weekend. Maybe it was the light in the trees. The golden leaves falling. I don’t know. I was moved. We stopped and I allowed them to walk around while I snapped a few photos. The kids were quiet, which is rare. They asked lots of questions.

Why did he die?

How old was she?

Are there any babies here?

Why are the stones falling apart?

Why is this stone on its side? And it has no writing on it…

I don’t know WHO they get their inquisitive minds from at all…

It’s difficult to explain to children how death works. Or how long ago 1825 really is. And yet, how recent it really is in the grand scheme of things.

Middle Man says they make gravestones better now than they did in 1825. I think he’s right.

It’s a stunning place. It’s beautiful in all its unevenness. It’s haphazard. It’s broken. It’s full of love and families and history. It has a story.

Just like life.

vintage obsession

Can you say “obsessed?”

I am. Big time. Me loves pretty pictures.

the windy (and cold, and rainy) city

We just got back from a quick weekend trip to Chicago for our 10-year wedding anniversary.

I know. I can’t believe it, either.

We had a blast. Ate way-too-expensive anniversary dinner, saw the best concert ever, rode the underground train thingee, saw pretty things, ate a great meal here, wondered about this place, bought a ring here, and slept here.

It was incredible and I wanna go back.

Even though it rained almost the entire time we were there. And it was VERY cold.

Great, great time. Can’t wait to go back.