January 1, 2023- Fifteen of us celebrated the exit of another year, dining in relatively simple, but fine style, at a small, well-functioning Steak House, known as Dry Gulch on the northwest side of Prescott. I have celebrated my birthday there, in times past, when Penny and family were here to join in my passage of another trip around the Sun. Tales of a fellow diner’s climbs on Denali Peak and Cerro Aconcagua-and aborted attempts to get a climbing permit for the sixth highest mountain in the world (in the Tibetan Himalaya, no less) highlighted the general banter of people who I was, except for hiking buddy, Akuura, meeting for the first time.
With the meal finished, a bit after 10 p.m., a few of us headed towards downtown-the idea being to take in at least a bit of the festivities leading up to the Boot Drop-Prescott’s paean to Times Square’s ball. I ended up being the only one who actually made it to Courthouse Plaza, and Whiskey Row- and then, only for about forty minutes, enough time to bounce a bit, on the sidelines of the outdoor mosh pit that had formed in front of the performance stage and to enjoy the customary hot chocolate that has become a NYE tradition. A friend on Instagram posted “Sag-Somehow ends up with the most kisses”; not this Sagitarrian. Age and anonymity, as well as not staying for the actual Boot Drop, had a lot to do with that, no doubt. I went back to Home Base and ended up watching the Midnight Fireworks from my front patio.
Today brought early rain, then snow, which is still falling and which convinced me to be content with having had breakfast with fellow veterans and with getting my laundry done. The movie I’d planned to watch, at the local Picture Show Cinema, this evening, will wait until Tuesday’s matinee. There is plenty to read and to watch, here in my comfy abode. There is also the matter of “What’s next in SS world?”
That is where the organic nature of 2023 comes in. I have heard that this is a year for introspection, as opposed to frenetic expenditure of energy. Alaska, as well as Sedona and Bisbee, is a place where I have been given to such introspection and I have received opaque messages that a visit there, via the Northwest, is imminent-most likely late April to mid-May. I have a teen whom I am sponsoring through a child-centered agency. Visiting with him, in his country, is a possibility for October. In that case, I would also seek to spend time in one or two nearby countries. So far, though, the pull is strongest, here in the Southwest, with time gradually being set aside for various points elsewhere in Arizona, and New Mexico, over the next four months.
In this moment, the snow is increasing in intensity, so I am gladly sitting in my front room for the rest of the evening. Life is unfolding in an organic manner.