Time Moves On

Journeys

My talks at the Cuesta College Writer’s Conference last week went well enough. They had been my, “I’ll stay until…” marker. Now that marker has passed.

It feels like Autumn- it’s getting colder, the days are shrinking…the months feel like they are shrinking too.

Earlier, a bright yellow leaf landed on my car’s hood- right about where I had snapped a picture of “the first fall leaf” as I was entering New York last year on that part of my road trip. Lately I’ve been feeling that call to move again…to get in the car and head off to somewhere else.

I thought that I would feel like I belong here- and I do in many ways. I know my way around all of the little streets…I know the places to hike and walk. I know the restaurants and shops. I’m constantly running into people I know…but there are too many good memories of when I called this home before the little island…it feels like there is something missing from before- purpose rooted in partnership, in family.

Those I call family now are a smaller group…those that disappeared are the cousins-in-law, the brother-in-law and the husband. Poof. Like some strange “delete” button got pushed.

This place feels different. But, maybe I am different. I feel mismatched to my life at times.

Maybe I came to satisfy a longing? Or process something from the past? Touch base with dear ones? Look for a life that “fits” again?