Leaving Willamina

7.13.23

Home at last. It has been a full month since i left.

Two days of driving past beaches and redwoods, looking to return to the coastal trip I intended in the first place, but more than anything just wanting to get home. About halfway I boondocked a dark trailhead parking lot with no discernible NO CAMPING sign. Up at dawn, I made coffee, drove to the nearby rest stop for indoor plumbing, a cat bath with cold water and a wet towel. Then on to Brookings, gas, grocery outlet (blue eggs! Marin Sun Farms beef!), a drive-thru cappuccino, and back on the road.

So sorry to go–I didn’t spend enough time at the museum. Never made it back to taste more of the brilliant clear red cherries. That color will always make me think of that splendid little town, a balm to my soul. In 2017, then again last year, neither did i get out and walk little roads and alleys or partake of the flavor and color of the place.  Among the neighbors, three sheep, a pig or two, a couple of ducks. Strikingly absent, the sound of jet planes overhead.  Not on any flightpath except barn swallows and doves, and a few crows.

My eyes are tired, and I am instantly back to my familiar wake-up time of 8 AM. The urban sprawl and traffic–Santa Rosa, the bayshore freeway, all the towers and chaos replacing what once was MY little town, so hard to bear. It’s quiet here in my studio, the redwood tree and the box elder, and all my garden (how did the tomato plants survive? a mystery neighbor) all welcome me back. Back on concrete, but there is a kind of peace here.