This weekend, we are traveling,
heading south to be with family,
in parts and pieces,
for just a day or so.
And as we leave,
the first storm of the season
is building in drama
and beauty.
As we round the curve on the 118,
heading into the hills and canyons
that separate the valleys
San Fernando and San Gabriel,
we can see what we're heading into.
We have splashes and splitches
on the windshield as we drive
the two hours,
listening to a play-off game on the car radio.
But after we are safely ensconced in our
daughter's small, cozy guesthouse,
the clouds burst their seams,
pouring water,
hail and something new to our ears,
graupel,
all around us,
looking for all the world like
small pellets of styrofoam packing material.
Time with mom is good.
My brother has made the long trek
from northern CA
and she is delighted to
have her two remaining
children (and her daughter's husband)
in the same space,
making her laugh til her sides hurt -
even when she can't quite understand
everything that is being said.
I take a walk in the late afternoon,
around my daughter's beautiful, old
neighborhood,
filled with Victorian cottages,
bungalows from the turn of the
twentieth century,
and a bounteous buffet
of doors and porches.
This old codger was somehow
both delightfully out of place
and quite comfy
in this collection of
oldies, but goodies.
The street just to the west of our children
is filled with magnificent
old jewels like this shingled glory,
mixed nicely with smaller, more modest
abodes.
This lovely avenue positively defines
the term 'tree-lined street,'
and is always deliciously inviting.
Turning the bend below the elementary school,
brings a bright row of small charmers,
and the delightful surprise of a healthy,
blooming plumeria plant,
six feet tall and thriving in this
decidedly non-tropical environment.
And this is a garage.
Oh, my.
This small gem, with its bright red door,
stands diagonally across the corner
on the street where we are staying.
When I see it,
it always seems to call out,
'welcome!'
One more small Victorian on the way up the hill,
and then I'm back where I began,
the charming Sears & Roebuck bungalow,
which our children have tastefully and carefully
enlarged and improved,
and where we are always received
by grace-filled, loving hearts.
I think this front door is my very favorite of all.
The beauty found in
thunder storms,
architecture,
history,
neighborhoods,
city streets
and warm welcome
is saving me
right here, right now.
And I am thankful.
Much longer than usual for the weekend quiet hosted by my friends Sandy and Deidra, but this is what I've got for now. I hope to do a simpler one for Sat/Sun, which means I will not quite make all 31 of the 31-day challenge.
