We headed out on caravan with good friends Friday pointing 'Snits' eastward to the mountains ...what struck me as we drove was how long it had been since I had actually camped in the mountains...so long, I cannot precisely recall.
If you have ever been, lived, presently reside or are from California you will understand when I say that this is a majestic and simply beautiful place, I am smitten and in love with this state, my heart was born and bred here, my soul still grows in these surrounds.
Palm trees seamlessly transform into pine trees and the air gets a bit crisper around each bend, as you curve along winding roads. Looking down into deep ravines alongside the highway there are small homes tucked in here and there and I envision the occupants and what they must do...I have always done this, even as a little girl, imagining a woman knitting on her porch, or hanging laundry while singing to her baby, nowadays perhaps technology has taken over and there are much more complicated computer workings happening, taking orders and communicating with folks in France or just up the road...still intrigues me.
Some years ago there was a fire where we camped here, and although it was all over the news and I saw the acres of trees and land being consumed by flames...the devastation never completely sunk in for me until I landed in the midst of remains just this past weekend. Years have brought rains and some new growth, green patches emerge here and yonder, but there is a quiet, still beauty in the trees that stand, black and burnt, but still holding strong. Holes have been left where once they were solid, but still, they hold themselves high and like pillars of history, never to bloom or drop leaves again, but not ready to leave their birthplace.
A graceful dancer...
I was humbled here...my heart spread out over the rocks, branches and dirt, I lifted my head and gave a salute to the tall, burnt arbors of this place. I will be back...very soon.
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