You either love every minute it ~ or you are expecting rain.
Water and waves. There's something so special about the ocean. You can head out into it with a certain attitude. You leave with another. This reminds me of the Mahatma's saying. "Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn."
The green hills of California. West of Hemingway, South of Steinbeck country.
But where will these tracks lead me? Like Odysseus. Out on an odyssey, headed, but not yet ready to head home. With 'no direction home.'
