Dreams, Moments, Travels
This is the first photo of my uncle Woody I’m taking with the new lens they gifted me yesterday. For a man with a new hip, he’s making great progress.
When Tata (Aunt Ann) finishes up at work, I pick her up, and we come over to the rehab clinic, but before we get here, I swing by their home to pick up German Shepherd Sophie because for Uncle Woody, having time with his wife and dog makes everything just that much better.
Moments to myself are the rehabilitative therapy I require as there are stressors, even in the most beautiful of places, that demand we take time for ourselves. The birds flying with their beaks in the water, leaving the trails behind them, are looking for food; they are called black skimmers.
Catching the sunrise on the coast while well and good, I am like this bird out here alone with my shadow. Caroline is somewhere else, far away under that sun to the east.
Not long from now, I’ll head back into town to visit with my uncle, but until then, I can just hang out here and watch the colors of the morning give way to those of the day.
The blue sky and approaching ocean all let me know that time is up; I must leave but will return.
Before the day was out, my aunt and uncle wanted to hand me an envelope of cash, but I couldn’t take that from them. They, being who they are, insisted. I had to say no. They asked what they could do for me after these weeks of helping them with so much of my time, and they went for the jugular, asking if maybe I wanted something for my camera. I told them I’d been looking at a quite expensive Canon 70-200mm lens, and they said, “Done.” It turned out that it was a hair less than what was in the envelope.
After nearly three weeks in Santa Barbara, California, I took time this morning to visit the ocean.
Here I am, at times barely a half-mile from the beach, but helping an elderly relative with a broken hip and an 82-year-old aunt who still works but doesn’t drive leaves precious little time for me.
Today, after dropping my aunt off at work and prior to visiting the rehabilitation center, I took a meandering cliffside drive near the ocean. Upon finding a remote, nearly hidden trail that looked to go to the beach, I found parking and began to capture an hour and a half for myself.
A steep moss-covered stairway descended the cliff to a lonely beach without a soul, probably because it was just after sunrise and there was a brisk chill in the air.
The tide was in along this rocky stretch of southerly facing coast.
I walked eastwards into the rising sun, watching it glisten off the surf.
Now, if only Caroline were here holding my hand.
Two days ago, during my 8-day stay in Santa Barbara helping my aunt and uncle deal with Woody’s broken foot, he reached to open the sliding door to let out his dog, slipped, fell, and broke his hip. After learning that he’d be in surgery the next day, the 11th, I raced back to Arizona to fetch Caroline and bring her with me to California for the weekend after our week-long break from each other. With Uncle Woody being 84 years old, I figured I might be spending more time over there, and this seemed like the best chance I’d have of seeing her for a bit. On our way back to California, we detoured into Glendora after years of hoping to visit the world-famous Donut Man.
Luck would have it that it’s peach season, so here’s a photo of my peachy wife holding a yummy fresh peach donut, ready to try this delectable treat.
While my blog moves along at a slow pace it is not finished. At some point, it will morph into something new. As this year has gone by, my interest in technology has given up some of its ground and made way for me to take on new hobbies such as farming, weaving, dreaming about weaving on a farm, canning, and trying new things that require the hands to do more than moving my wrist in back-and-forth motions whilst clicking with my index finger. Like this caterpillar, I feel I am nearly done with this first incarnation of life and would like to move on to a new stage; this past year has felt as though I have been cocooning. I don’t know when spring comes or when the cocoon opens, showing the shape of things to come, but I am trying to find the patience to wait things out until a different maturity or immaturity lets me find my next voice for communicating here on my blog that has been rather silent for too long. I promise to return soon with a new outlook – after I find it.
We left Saturday morning for Santa Barbara, California, after getting a call from Aunt Ann that my great-uncle Woody had fallen and broken his foot. Before we got underway, Caroline wound this ball of yarn that was destined to become a pair of gloves for me. For some misunderstood reason, I’m at a loss to explain; we didn’t take a single photo while out in Santa Barbara this long weekend. I can only surmise that we were so attentive to family needs that the opportunity never arose. As we departed on Monday, it was obvious that my aunt and uncle could use some assistance, so a couple of days after bringing Caroline home, I returned to Santa Barbara.