The sun is out this morning. Usually this isn’t worth noting, being Southern California. Recently, however, it seems a rare delight. Fog, clouds really, have been rolling in and through almost non-stop these last weeks bringing occasional rain and hail. Mostly the fog arrives and stays a spell without comment. It’s beatiful and dramatic, while also being a wee bit melancholy. I felt the fog yesterday, the accumulation of weeks of dark skies with only a hint of sun finally reaching into my soul. Combine that with not nearly enough water drunk over the weekend and my heart felt rather downward focused. Awareness of both this reality and the immediate causes do help one’s overall perspective, even if the weight still is present and whispers those lies (always with their helping of truth) deep into the heart.
Today the sun is out and I think I’ll bask in its brightness letting the warmth and brightness do all the chemical things that it does so well. The squirrels are active and busy, chasing each other around stumps and up trees. The jays are pulling twigs off oak branches (why the branches on the ground aren’t good enough I don’t know). The oaks themselves are full along in their Spring display, with the larger trees first to dress for summer and the saplings only this week showing the red and pink buds which will turn broad and green in coming weeks.
The forest takes on a new hue with these oaks. The pines are gone and the oaks are fully exposed, white and gray in winter, green in summer.
I’m a little antsy to write in full now, my eyes keep turning left and looking at the rising sun. I did want to briefly note the various events of my curious weekend, and begin a thought I might develop more this evening.
This past weekend I went down the hill for a couple of days. I went sailing out of San Pedro harbor, to about a third of the way to Catalina island before turning back. I was offered a brief writing project which will primarily be for Hungarians. I heard how an impossible thing became a possible thing, slowly over the weeks then with more punch in the last few days to the point where it is almost about to become an actual thing.
I ate a very wonderful Carne Asada burrito and shook hands with a Cardinal… though not at the same place or time. As I considered the reasons why I’m not a Catholic I had a very nice time at the early morning Mass, worshiping God with the Communion of Saints in a building that expresses Vatican II significantly better than the words of any theologian.
I had an Afghan patty and Afghan fries at a nice suburban restaurant in the heart of a town that curiously hosts one of the top engineering schools and a premier conservative leaning college alongside some of the most liberal political and theological schools. I was there because it was Mother’s Day.
The sun was out all morning and left by the afternoon. I drove home while watching the clouds cover the sky, and the road.
I took a wonderful Sunday late afternoon nap.
All in all a different sort of weekend. Good and fun, but I find myself happy to return, restore the rhythms and resync my life with my present calling. It takes a day or two, and so yesterday was a bit of a muddle. Today, however, the sun is out and I feel renewed.
I also feel a bit like a sailboat myself.
That’s a thought that would be better developed when I don’t have an overpowering urge to sit outside amidst the singing birds and gamboling squirrels. So into the forest I now go.