Tag: #camping

Swimming Solo

I am, at last, an almost-nomad. I have been on the road since August. Not exclusively. I’ve had some much, much-needed layovers here and there; Kauai, Malibu, Rancho Palos Verdes, New York, for example. Not too shabby real estate, I’d say. But I’ve been picking… Continue Reading “Swimming Solo”

But now, I Feel Different

I’m relaxing in front of my Big Red propane campfire, steaming cup of Mt. Whitney French roast organic coffee at my side, Winnie the Pooh slippers warming my normally never-cold feet on this gorgeous last full day of my October Solo Camping Adventure. The… Continue Reading “But now, I Feel Different”

By the Night of the Silvery Harvest Moon

Living my dream. Really. Truly. Like I have died and gone to heaven. In heaven. Me. Camping at a beautiful, gorgeous winery in San Miguel, CA, Four Sisters Winery, https://www.foursistersranch.com/owned by Serena and Michael, former doctors from Southern California who decided to switch it up. They have two-and-a-half… Continue Reading “By the Night of the Silvery Harvest Moon”

When Place is Your Teacher

If you’ve been following my blog for a bit, you’ve probably observed that I get tied-up in knots; I go round and around, jump as if someone’s pushing me, and when I finally land, the proverbial parachute cords have lassoed my legs paralyzing my… Continue Reading “When Place is Your Teacher”

Fish Lake Resort

I don’t fish. I barely even eat it. But my son said on my way back to Southern California that I should stop by one of his favorite hideaways about an hour east from Medford, Oregon.  Normally, I camp. I had all the equipment… Continue Reading “Fish Lake Resort”

When nothing is everything

I want for nothing. Content. Centered. At the knees of the sacred Sierra Nevada, humbled by the majesty of Mount Whitney. Drenched in the sun, tumbler of filtered water at my side. Just the clicking of the keyboard to stir the silence of this… Continue Reading “When nothing is everything”

Autumn River

May the peace that transcends all understanding pass through you.  Words to this effect, or maybe precisely these words, concluded our Sunday service at Christ Episcopal Church in Redondo Beach, a congregation I was “led” to after my mother died of emphysema in 1981.  As she… Continue Reading “Autumn River”