I returned yesterday from a visit to the desert of Southern California. It's a Portland spring break thing to do, but also a New York and Chicago spring break thing to do.

The trip had originally been scheduled for two years ago, but Covid postponed it twice until last week. It was a first family vacation in three years.

I did not do work.

I did not blog much, as a scroll through the main page reveals.

I did not worry about Portland's problems. Where I was, such problems were either nonexistent or invisible.

I received wonderful blasts of light and heat.

I floated on my back and watched hummingbirds toil away at the yellow blooms of the palo verde trees shading one end of the pool.

I spent some time thinking about what it means to be an old guy.

I bought a shirt.

I ate a couple of edibles.

I kept an eye on the college basketball miracle being worked by my undergrad alma mater, but I didn't see any of the Sweet 16 live, being on the road at the times the games were being played.

Instead I met the enemy on the rocks at Joshua Tree.

Today, and all week probably, there will be the catching-up. But it comes with the benefit of having been reminded that there is a world out there beyond, where it is not so chilly.


  1. Nothing like the desert. Even if your horse has a name.
    Welcome back.


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