Dawn was just breaking in the sky as I stirred awake. Aspen and Jim continued to snore softly as I contemplated the beginning of a new day. This morning musing brought the realization that for the first time in over one year I felt totally and completely relaxed and at peace.
Camp life continues to roll along and we are shocked to realize it is already nearly mid-September. Along with hundreds of guests, we have been fortunate enough to have plenty of our own visitors in the form of family and dear friends. It’s no secret that in large part our decision to return to Oregon to work was the opportunity to be able to spend more time with our tribe and believe me, our hearts are full!
Life has taken on a comfortable routine. How long we’ll be happy with small-town beach life remains to be seen as we have notoriously itchy feet. But after nearly five years of almost non-stop motion, it’s fantastic to establish a routine. My favorite part~ how unexpected it all is. If you had told me 6-months ago that I’d be embracing life in a small coastal town back in Oregon I would have scoffed at the idea.
The last month has been a blur of activity for our little family and if the Blue Zones theory on social interaction= overall health we should surely be some of the healthiest folks on the planet!
Mexico is our safe place. That sweet spot we head to when we need to heal weary minds and hearts. When Jim’s sister passed away in 2003 we found solace in Mazatlan. When my mom passed away in 2005 we almost immediately grabbed Ron & Dario and headed to Puerto Vallarta. This fall, rather than take the planned drive around the USA, we knew that a couple of months renewing on the beaches of Baja was what was called for.
As full-time rv’ers, our reality is that we spend an enormous chunk of time searching for places to stay. In some cases, we follow familiar paths and are pretty sure we know where we’ll end up, but we thrive on exploring and finding new adventures and this is where Harvest Hosts comes into play.
As we made the long trip from Camp to Utah and Nevada towards Oregon we were greeted with some of the most astonishing cloud formations we had ever seen. The skies daily offered up a stunning mix of clouds and sun brightening everything around us. Reminding us that life has ups and downs and sunshine and rain but is ever resilient.
“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky” ~ Rabindranath Tagore
At Bryce National Park a cloudy day rendered just enough sun and contrast to further enhance this awe-inspiring natural beauty.
Those words, from one of my favorite songs, is an apt description of much of our life and wanderings. A season ending in Baja transforms into a season beginning at camp. Now, as the leaves begin a color kaleidoscope transformation all their own, our seasons will soon recycle and renew as well.
Back at camp in Idaho, the idea of “home” has been on our minds of late. Jim’s parents still ask when we’re “coming home”. We frequently find ourselves in conversations with strangers where they ask where home is. There is no real clear-cut answer. Our official residency, for now, is Portland. We live half of the year in Idaho and half elsewhere. The majority of those we meet simply can not comprehend the idea of a semi-nomadic existence.
It all started with an ottoman. A broken brake fiasco south of Mulege had us pulling into Playa Santispac rather than our beloved Playa Coyote beach. We generally think of Santispac as a place for “big rigs” and all of those who want easy access to Mexico 1 rather than those seeking a bit of peace and quiet. No matter. A night on any one of the scenic beaches of Bahia Concepcion is a dream.
We decided to leave the brake fix until the next morning and then I saw it. The tall blond woman in the RV just down from us had an ottoman. A real life, straight out of a living room, ottoman that she was resting her feet on while reading her book next to the sea. A wave of envy washed over me.