Dear losses and small treasures

The violent winds wreaked havoc around the valley. Pictures of giant trees and their conglomeration of tangles branches and roots have been all over the net and the news. Big beastly branches that mashed roofs. Tremendous trunks that plopped across streets making here to there impossible. Riotous roots that upturned roads and walkways like so much old, dried playdough. So many huge things.

Then there are the small losses.

I've loved sitting in my swing and thinking. Not going to happen for a while. Not a huge loss, really, compared to those that were without water, heat, or light for days and days, but I will miss the swing.

The canopy of the swing was my protective champion on days when the hot sun heated the air. It was the place where my right brained thoughts could freely roll around when the house or the meeting was too much for me. I could swing at a pace that matched my emotional need. Fast when I was frustrated, nice and slow when the words or strategy were gradually being formed.

Most of our garden is well. Having a lot of native plants has meant that the garden may look a bit awkward at times, but the plants have years and years of surviving So Cal weather.

We may have lost our Channel Island Bush Poppy. I'll try and reroot it; we'll see if it returns...don't know.

The garden gnome is one of the little bits of hope in the yard . When Kate and the girls were here last year the gnome was a part of every day. I would rise before the girls and hide the gnome in our garden. The challenge for Lili and Cheli was finding the gnome.

The girls will be back in about a week. And though we won't have a swing to sit in, the gnome waits. I will think of him as my Julenisse. He reminds me of the gifts that are all around us. This thought is a gift in itself.

Gracias Julenisse.