home

The sadness over leaving the Sea of Cortez (and those damn dogs) vanished once I was on the highway heading north. I think this is why I have never been homesick for a place I’ve left because once I’m gone, I’m moving forward, no thoughts of where I’ve been; just where I am and where I’m going. It’s sort of a ‘be here now’ kind of thing except for the dwelling on the next step. Where will I live? Where will I work? This time it’s different. As I drove north through Mexico my thoughts were on the now, the potholed road and what it was doing to my trailer. Now, as I type this from a new park, a new town, a new part of Arizona, there is only this moment and the feeling that things will be what they will be – que sera sera.

Last night was my first night in my trailer in a week and how I missed it, my little 8x25 foot home. What a week!

Upon leaving The Home of Dashed Hopes I felt better about the park and Jailbird Jr. The new owner told me about his plans for the park and offered me a deal if I decided to move back. Jailbird Jr. apologized for being such an ass the day before and so we parted on good terms. Then I hooked up my home and crossed the mountains and headed to this little town where that evening I met up with two friends from my long-ago Berkeley life. We played tourists in this town for a couple of days then one of my friends headed off to continue her road trip east while my other friend and I drove up to Sedona.

I could live in Sedona. Whenever Sedona had been mentioned before – mostly by my mom who couldn’t understand why I chose to live at The Home of Dashed Hopes – I countered with Sedona was too touristy, too new agey, too expensive. I guess all of those are still true but damn what a beautiful place. My friend and I even hiked to one of the vortexes. The sign at the trailhead said it was an easy 2.5 mile hike. She interpreted that as a 2.5 round-trip hike which I didn’t discover until we were on our way out. “You did the hike anyway, knowing it was going to be 5 miles?” she asked and I said sure even though I’m the out-of-shape one. That was the longest 5 mile hike of my life and it was anything but easy. The next day we were happy to discover that in a guidebook the hike was noted as 6.3 miles and “moderate”. At dinner afterwards I couldn’t rise from a seated position, my knees and hips having decided to never again move.

So here I am. New town, new park, new people. Life on the Sea of Cortez feels so distant as to no longer be recognizable. My search for home? Home is where I am.