The night before I left town, I needed to clean my house. I hate returning to a mess because it doesn’t feel restful, and the last thing I want when I get home is to feel like I have chores to do. Luckily, my house is fairly-tiny, and doesn’t take long to clean. I started… Read More The Broken Pot
I drive down Dog Bar Road along narrow twists and turns. I pass green, rolling hills; Victorian farm houses with blossoming trees and horses out front; abandoned barns that are hauntingly romantic; and ponds that are full from recent rainstorms. In the distance, a group of female turkeys step out of the lush greenery and… Read More Save Bear River
I live at 2,500 feet on my aunt and uncle’s property and more often than not, snow in the forecast only brings disappointment; yet, one night a cold front descended, and at dawn, I awoke with the sun, and seeing a brilliant dusting on pine needles outside my window, I leapt from my bed and… Read More Drought Damage
I recently purchased Hank Meal’s, The River, a local’s guide to hiking trails surrounding the Yuba River. On a rainy afternoon, my friend, Kitten, and I got cabin fever; we opened Hank’s book and chose the Rock Creek Nature Trail (located in the Tahoe National Forest) as our tonic. Once the site of a lumber… Read More Rock Creek Wisdom
I started practicing yoga in my teens, and over the years, I have done my fair share of sun salutations. In my personal practice, I sometimes use a few to warm my body, but I don’t really enjoy them. So when I heard we were doing 108 sun salutations at the end of my… Read More 108 Sun Salutations
Decorated and adorned — the mundane made profound — neighborhood houses become gingerbread with thick, clean frosting on the roofs. No longer differentiable between old or new, run-down or well-kept, each dwelling takes on an air of elegance. Icicles hang from awnings like stalactites. An enchanted child appears behind my eyes. We make tall footprints… Read More Snowflakes
I swung open my parents’ front door and gave Ryan, my childhood friend, a bear hug. “It’s been a while,” he said, standing next to his road bike. “Almost two years! And of course you came on bicycle. What should we do?” “Well, I have an idea.” “As always,” I smiled. He laughed, “I got… Read More Art and Trespassing
Nostalgia washed over me as I drove into Los Osos at sunset. I pulled into my friend Nikki’s driveway; it was my first visit to her new home. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since the Burn,” she said, giving me a hug. “It’s been too long!” I agreed. She hopped with excitement. “Come… Read More A Day in Los Osos
I step outside. The sun peeks around clouds to caress the world and welcome me. Unseen doves proclaim the beauty around us. Dew rests on the earth; oaks stretch in wild formations. Brown leaves blanket the ground and young grasses grow amongst those that had died in summer. Moisture adorns foliage with drops that sparkle… Read More The Forest’s Song
A severe drought — the worst in recorded history — has plagued California for years. Wildfires ravage the state, lakes receded to shocking levels, creeks and rivers ran dry. But this year, the rainstorms started early. One real storm blessed us in August, a few graced us in September, and this months we’ve had several… Read More Gratitude: An Ode to the Rain
