An undercurrent of gray, wet with the sea, and dragged through these coastal canyons transforms scenery here today, from the robust August sunlight, to the first faint hits of fall. I’m not ready for summer to shimmy off to Southern climes, I may just have to follow her, begging at her heels for more.

Trees hang papered and peppered with moss and lichen. Tan oaks, rhododendrons and huckleberry shelter under the tallest redwoods. Gray rock, and green in every variation fan out below me. The female forms of California coastal hills spread their undulating selves in every direction.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers seep under and through the barn wall, between where I sit with my internet connection and my father’s tenant’s place. It’s a strange and perfect sound track to this evening’s musings.

Tomorrow I’ll head to Marin, and then into the city to see Johnny Nitro at The Saloon and a possible stop in at Biscuits and Blues. I want to dance with abandon, feel the music and see my old home turf.

I keep waiting for a sign, a deep pull and pulse that says yes, that’s it, that’s the place, or face, or sound, or smell that turns me in my tracks and sets a new course to follow. Until that fated day I will keep wandering with an open mind and heart, feeling into my future by slowly wadding into what’s receptive and compelling. I will continue to write and sing and design and notice the beauty in the world.

Thanks for listening,

Annie xox

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