In my grade school spelling bee days, one of my favorite words was “meander”. Another was “Mesopotamia”. Portents at an early age that I’d marry a man from that region and settle with him in the valley where that river flows? Perhaps.
But rather than stay settled, we’ve taken to living out of suitcases this past year. I’m far from Turkey at the moment. Certain that I’ll always be a wanderer. Whether through a tumbledown Istanbul neighborhood, or here, in a vibrant vineyard after a week of rain.
Shades of green, bounded by blue mountains…
Sharp cold sun against winter-bared trees.
The sound of running water to calm my racing mind and channel my focus.
It’s easy to be lulled by bucolic pastoral scenes, but my urban life awaits.
So for a few more days, I’ll relish my favorite color. Green. Pungent, fresh, eye-catching. Invigorating.
Drawing my attention to where I’m going…
Reminding me to always look up.
And to be assured that, mirrored within, the winter greens of California will always be with me.
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