Baby, It's Cold Outside...and Wet!

The past few weeks I’ve been caught up in a thousand Christmas chores (okay, maybe simply a hundred or so, but it has felt like a thousand) and the rewriting of the novel I hope will push me into the ranks of heralded and financially comfortable authors.

So, I have missed the pleasures of exploring the Sacramento area. There is so much more to see, experience and write about, so I plan to renew my forays into myriad adventures awaiting me in earnest after the New Year comes skipping over the horizon. In the meantime, I took a look around myself today and realized there is so much to enjoy in my own front yard.

It was raining today as I read in my cozy little nest of a bed in my RV, Wanda. I stopped for a few minutes as I heard the wind pick up a bit and glanced out the window. I found myself smiling as I watched a cascade of leaves being persuaded to leave a tree by the gusts. They came tumbling over each other by the tens, creating such a lovely sight of yellowed migration.

I marveled at those that remained on the stark branches, still clinging to their usefulness and life. It made me think of the human struggle to remain and survive, but I was also able to see the drifting beauty of those golden leaves that couldn’t hold on any longer, that simply let go and created a new carpet of intricate patterns on the earth below. There is an analogy here greater than any observer or writer’s ability to convey it.

The chill in the air hovers in the mid-forties most days lately. I love the brace of walking from a warm building into that biting cold and the instant alertness that goes with it; the realization that everything around me is a bit crisper than in the spring and summer. This feeling is something I sorely missed while I lived in Arizona.

Even the comfort of the indoors is amplified and distinctly more appreciable in this lovely climate.

The tinkling of rain on tin roofs is a sound I’ve always loved and here I get to experience that every time it so much as sprinkles when I’m in Wanda. The sound is slightly different but just as enjoyable.

In retrospect, perhaps my adventures have been more introspective of late, but in Sacramento all it takes is a cold, rainy day to feel as if you’re somewhere special.