Hola, dear readers.
No, this is not a Mexican kitty..This is Tater Bug, seen here contemplating the sunset. She lives in Little Rock with my friend Becky.
I’ve been thinking about aliens lately, and what that means…
For instance, when I go down to the bay every morning before dawn, wearing my down jacket, a cap, leg warmers, an alpaca poncho and three layers of clothes beneath all that…. and I encounter these people:
Which of us is the alien?
(Clue: I heard them speaking French.)
And I see that they have more freedom/options than I, because they are not nursing an aversion to cold-ness.
But I may have more “freedom” than others, to enjoy the 97+ degree weather that I will soon encounter in Southeast Asia.
And that looms larger, as I see the calendar “distance” narrowing my time here in the Baja.
Leaving places I love always feels like an approaching death. I become sentimental about my amigos the saguaro, the moonlight on the bay, my mountain, La Virgen. Forgive me. My maudlin withdrawal will flavor these final four days.