There are so many places that make me happy…
My bed…snuggled up and tucked in-between far too many pillows and a warm husband.
Pretty much any poke bowl restaurant.
Wherever I am when I receive the tiniest of tiny pecks on my cheek from my littlest one.
Relaxing by my dad’s pool…getting splashed and listening to the squeals and giggles of happy children.
Christmas morning at the same house…too cold for the pool, but filled with the warmth of bacon and coffee, memories of Ginga and her famous Pletter.
But today it was the mountain trail that used to begin right outside my front door. The trail that my feet have pounded up and down more times than I could count. It’s been close to twenty years since I hiked up my old friend, but the landmarks were still there.
Purple and yellow blossoms singing the songs of spring
The view of my childhood
Skittish lizards running off to sun on other, less trampled on rocks
The sound of a tiny waterfall in the distance.
Someone made the trail much longer and steeper than it was when I was 25, but it was every bit as beautiful.
I made it up to the tiny river fed by a Southern California waterfall.
Where I could hear just enough water to make the lapping peaceful sounds that calm my soul.