I have been missing California lately, steadily, persistently. Then I read this article in NYT yesterday and was struck motionless. Sometimes a writer says something that hits a spot you didn't even know was tender. It's a piercing moment, reading words that articulate a feeling so much better than I ever could because how can you write them if you don't even know you're feeling them. So thank you, Laura Dave:
"Maybe this is what we get in life, a few great loves: loves that return us to ourselves when we need it most. And maybe some of those loves aren't people, but places, real and adopted homes, that fill us up with light and energy and hope at moments when we feel especially tired or lost. That is the beauty of love in all its forms. We don't know when or how it is going to save us."
I am blessed in love. And California is one of those places for me.