I arrived last night in California. Rudy gave me a ride, and we had a riotous time on the way to the airport laughing at stories about our respective childhoods. I put my head down and prayed during takeoff, and, what do you know – I made it! – and even during the slight turbulence at the beginning of the flight, with prayers and closing my eyes and imagining friends next to me, I survived. As we sailed over the lights of DFW, I said farewell, I shall return. Then, I watched Juno.

This morning, I looked out my window to see some palm trees, then took a jog around the neighborhood in the morning cool and mist and clouds. The bulk of the day was spent in car with my dad, driving from southern California, up the 5 freeway, across to the 101 and the 1, past Monterey, around the bay, and up to a little seaside town called Capitola, which is just south of Santa Cruz. There are lots of tall trees, and the winery my father is bottling at, Soquel, is up a winding and forested and narrow road. That road has all these unique little houses, nestled in the greenery, with some old and some new cars sitting outside them.

The winery had a view of the ocean, lots of roses, and much greenery. Pictures follow:

Grape vines in the foreground, and the ocean in the distance.

Roses. There were many of them in the courtyard of the winery.

Clouds. I like this picture quite a bit.

My father had to set up the bottling trailer, so I sat down and read the first few chapters of Nicholas Nickelby, and looked up many words in my dictionary. I was quite contented, especially after the sun made a note-worthy appearance and I took the pictures above.

Now I am in a hotel room, listening to Sarah Harmer and writing. Tomorrow, I may go down to the beach, or to downtown Santa Cruz. However, I just discovered that mere miles away there are three separate state parks with redwoods; one of them apparently has a good trail, a nature center, and a bookstore. I just might have found what I’m doing tomorrow.

Until next time, I am, yours, etc. etc.