A Good Day to be Content
On chasing sunshine and desirable abodes
A friend drove south with her husband to spend winter on a Mexican beach. She does this every year, and her sisters in Christ usually get texts of outdoor cantinas, beautiful blue waters, and reports of what the temperature is (80 degrees, last I heard).
I think about this idea of heading south, today, when the temperature outside is 22 degrees and the sun is shrouded behind voluminous clouds, turning our entire woods into gray shadows. I’m thankful for the wood heating (most of) our home, our deep and cozy comforters, and endless pots of soup, but the feel of warm sunshine upon my face and penetrating my bones mercilessly beckons me like my tabby to flattened and tattered catnip.
My husband and I moved to the Pacific Northwest almost three decades ago, when we were young and foolish enough to simply decide to do so without any sense of security whatsoever, including a means of employment. We simply knew we wanted fresh air, salt water, mountains and greenery. We also wanted to get awa…