 |
| Kimmie's yard sale finds from the day before my visit -- arranged in front of the walnut drying shed on her farm |
Our searing summer of 2018 seems to be a debt that our soft, warm, generous Fall of this year is paying off.
October has earned its place in recent memories as the loveliest. And, it was my good fortune to be reminded of the splendidness of this fall with two weekend days spending some time with long-time, special friends.
Friends Amy and Doug had me, my mom, and Jeff to dinner Saturday evening. Amy and her brothers and parents were friends with my family when we were children. Her generous family lead to our enjoying the iconic Sugar Bowl ski resort with them in their family's cabin many years of our childhood, but, more; it instilled a history woven into our lives. Amy and Doug met while Amy lived at my last childhood home in Palo Alto, with my mom, shortly after my parents' divorce. She was living there when she first began dating Doug. They are so happily married and with grown children now. It's a straight up miracle that they ended up in the same little town we did, three hours from Portola Valley, where we all first lived.
We spent more time with them than we have in many years, and it was apparent to me, at least, that it was so long overdue. I'm so happy to have had that time, and I know there is more on the horizon.
Today, on a mellow noontime, I hopped in my car and left Auburn for lower climes. I tooled through Newcastle, and down to Lincoln. Past the tiny but respectable Lincoln airport, to the bottom lands of the Sacramento valley where orchards spring up like mushrooms in your fall garden. I arrived at the farm and home of my friend Kimmie, before even she did. The walnut rakers were working--I later found it was mostly her family and her father's friends--and the light through the trees was ethereal.
Spending time with Kim has always been a piece of cake. She and I connected the moment we met, way back thirteen years ago when she and her husband (now former) became my clients, and later, good friends. Kim and I laugh, and we share an optimism and urge to forgive the world for its trespasses. It is our commonality.
Long ago, I looked to Native American spirituality for a way to connect with the world. I found an understanding about Earth Mother and about interconnectedness. If ever a friend of mine embodied Earth Mother, Kimmie does. It seems that even though she was a mom of two and later three, living in the forest above Auburn when I met her, she was always meant to be here, farming, raising those last two babies, and kitties and a dog, and goats, and growing beautiful food that comes from the earth. I would never deign to define what anybody should do, or be, but I see Kimmie in her element, here on her beautiful farm.
An afternoon just being with my friend soothes my soul; inspires my spirit. We talk of nothing, yet everything. We talk of our pains, and our triumphs; our plans and ideas, and seek advice. We play with kittens, and gather walnuts in a half-assed attempt to help the rakers and Kimmie's father who is supervising the effort, at the end of the day. I pick pomegranates and oranges and apples and all of my bounty--my gift from Kimmie--all of it goes in a paper bag and into my car to be savored for the coming days and weeks.
These moments, spent with friends who know my soul, and whose I know, too, these are the sweetness of life. I drive into a rising three-quarter moon glowing over the rice fields and walnut groves, into the warm evening towards home.
Comments