When you come back down

Thursday was six months since I arrived to Cali.  Newport Beach down south at my old friend Mike's, I dropped my car off then walked several blocks to put my feet in the Pacific sand.  I was only there for two or so days in August before going North up 101.  Driving Thursday to Fort Ross State Beach, a 15 or so mile drive that took close to 50 coast highway minutes, I thought of my brother and I on the phone in 2002.  We were each about a week out of college, my old friend Dennis from Annapolis who I used to call Padre for his teachings and wisdom invited me and a few others to go to LA.  We red-eyed in, and then rented a car and drove straight to Hermosa Beach.  I changed in the street and ran to the sea.

My brother Sean called as soon as I got on the beach, said Sis whatcha doin?  We used to have this thing back then about calling one another to report our first spring dip in the ocean. I said I'm about to put my feet in the Pacific!  He was on the beach in Ocean City, Maryland, he had just moved back in with our dad.  Perfect.   My bro answered to hold, so he could run down the sand and get in the Atlantic while we stayed on the phone.  

Alot has changed since then, alot is still the same.  Fort Ross beach was closed for the season, but it didn't take away at all from my winding drive.  I actually came around one corner to a cow, walking up the center of Route One, just out for a stroll I guess to get some winter sun.  You never can tell what's around the bend, this is what I kept thinking, which made me grin when I showed up to the closed beach.  In fact, when I finally pulled off to just bask on a cliff at the edge of the sea, my happiness couldn't be separated out from the warm air, the black crows, Tom Petty on the radio. The green succulents underneath my faded yellow sheet.

In California there's a funny little battle between the north and south of the state.  Classic admirable regionalism.  Each end not only says there's is the best but especially that the other end sucks.  Well, I've been North now for six whole months.  The mountains have been wildly good, I speak Redwood now as part of my poetry. But just like the Buddhist's teach, it only matters what you learn in the mountains when you come back down.

So tomorrow I'm heading south.  Eager to see what could possibly be coming around my next bend, I'm confidant no matter what I'll enjoy the road.