(Walnut; Olive; Orange; Pecan; Acaccia.) (And, at least three lemons trees, five different kinds of succulents, one JimmyBuffetHead, three chimneys that look like ornate brick columns--though that may be because everything in Southern California looks ornate somehow, more precise--and enough sidewalk-side veranda patios with bright or bold or soft or subtle arty tiles to know for sure: this is paradise. I have arrived.)
I love walking. I love driving, I love the stillness within that comes with motion. I especially love this part, the on foot or sunroof-down exploring of my-new-place to live. My favorite town to walk was Easton, I loved Easton, loved the quaint cottages and pretentious historical show-houses and the alleys and side streets in between, the magnolias I would climb at night in secret. The patches of violet and chickweed that I would harvest from stranger's lawns. My favorite place to drive, besides the redwood Avenue in Southern Humboldt, was in Maryland. Kent County's countryside.
I have lived since August me and my car. Me and my little happy car-home, since the week I left Ocean City southbound across and through the Chesapeake Bay tunnel it's been us, rolling together to wherever we could based on the whimsy of the road. The number one thing about living planless on the road is abandoning the need to know what's next in favor of just showing up, being present, open to whatever. Being open to whatever makes it really simple to enjoy. There is so much that we miss going day to day over and over again in our rounds....so much to pay attention to...
So that when, just like that, a home shows up, well then you have an object lesson. Practicable, applicable. When the changes come, when life comes with a time to buckle in or down, it can still be the same thing. Just show up, try not to miss anything. Thirteen traffic lights between me and my ESL students, or is it eleven, or maybe fifteen?
There is so much to learn, laying in between.
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