I'm going back to California. Back where the air is gentle and the sky is blue. I'm going to see the woman with prayer flags on her porch and paint always on her fingers. We'll take it easy I think. Sit outside in the morning with our coffee and stories and this time the baby will be with us. Well hold him or set him in the hammock while we talk, and his presence will only make our conversation sweeter. I'm looking forward to working in the garden and making dinner together. Catching up and learning from the stories as they are told. Things always sound different when you say them out loud. It's been a bitter cold winter, and my bones are weary. I'm going where grapes grow out front and the wine from them is served with dinner. I'm going where my family is out west and growing as I write this.