my December drive

I said bye to all the kids and fellow educators at school today. I'll miss them during these next 2 weeks. Especially little Emma. Her parents brought me another gift today, a whole bunch of pictures of Emma and me. I was talking to Cole (a red-headed leprechaun-like kid in her class) about the break and he asked me, "Who's going to push Emma?" We had a great game of duck duck goose though today! And then I drove.....


A different thought for each moment as time passed in L.A. traffic...

...what an incredible life...transformation...true self...adventure...beauty...blessing...providence...beloved....

Inching slowly out of southern California
The bleak L.A. urban landscape fades away.
Twisting with fellow travelers on the traditional Christmas pilgrimage home.

Daylight fades over the grapevine,
blue shades change on stout mountains,
raw, rugged winter beauty.

Thick fog sweeps over the hills onto the freeway;
at first rolling innocently over car roofs.
Then over a hill a wall of cloud looms hundreds of feet high.

That great snakelike cloud swallowed all of us,
even the sun vanished and darkness enveloped our path.
Long beams of headlights shine and flash through thick darkness.

On the other side of the grapevine the cloud spit us out
A small sliver of moon shows through slender fingers of clouds.
Streams of red and white can be seen for miles rushing north and south.

Cars filled with presents and luggage strapped to roofs,
the faces of sleeping children lit by the glow of the dashboard appear in passing windows,
as burnt-out parents slump in their seats silently driving.

Strange lights make the clouds glow past the hills,
sepulchral orchards fly past as they sleep in the ghostly white light.
Suddenly the air smells like wintery northern California--wood, fire, dirt, ice.

Pine trees peak over freeway walls to welcome travelers to the city of trees.
Sacramento glows in its pale yellow light,
it's a little city playing pretend that it's a big city.

On the left the little yellow bridge blinks red air traffic lights,
old town Sac glows with Christmas lights lining the cobbled streets,
and that tacky apartment building looms on the right with its poor Asian roof imitation.

Weaving in and out of cars reaching speeds of 80 and 90 to get home.
Exiting past a bbq restaurant and an RV dealership into Roseville.
Driving past neighborhoods of high school friends.

Oak trees tell me I'm finally in Granite Bay,
as does the audible rumbling of the regional car majority of SUVs and trucks.
Winding down the tree-lined, manicured suburban road back home.


After 8 hours and over 450 miles I was at the Shotwells for fondue and wine. It's good to be home. I was welcomed very unusually by one of Sarah's best friends who I knew in high school. She observed how much I had changed since high school. She said, "You are so pretty. I mean you were pretty in high school, but you just grew into your beauty..." That was one of the greatest compliments I've received in a long time, but I appreciated it for different reasons than one may think--mainly owing to one of my favorite novels by Robin McKinley.