Pacific Ocean | A Sagittarian Seeker

December 9, 2025- In 2012, I drove out to San Diego, a favoured destination since 1978. Having befriended several bloggers from Los Angeles and nearby Orange County, I arranged to meet four of them on this first westward outing, since the death of my wife, Penny, a year earlier. Three have moved on from our acquaintance, and one has remained, a faithful, supportive older sister. She has seen me outgrow a lot of self-imposed limitations and cast off a lot of baggage.

Ever gracious, my friend rose from the park-style bench and greeted me with a side-hug, on this last visit to southern California for a while. (Except for a possible pit stop at LAX, next month, which hardly counts.) We then headed into the Ladera Ranch branch of Corky’s, a lovely chain of breakfast and lunch spots across Orange County, eastern Los Angeles and the Inland Empire. Our respective years were shared, as well as what lies ahead for each of us, in very different spaces. J is always a voice of reason, so I value her insight into my impending move to Texas.

The greatest driving force in my life, this month, is honouring the friendships that have grown over the decades that I’ve been in Arizona, and the nearly twenty years that I’ve been active online. So it was an easy drive to Orange County; it will be a joyful hike at Sedona’s Red Rock State Park, tomorrow and a blissful, if a bit wistful, series of gatherings from Thursday to next Wednesday. I have an enormous amount of gratitude to this state in general and to Prescott in particular, for having helped me come out of an oversized shell. It has helped me develop a sense of fulfillment.

I made it from Banning to Ladera Ranch, thoroughly enjoying our two-hour visit, then made a farewell drive down I-5, thanking the ocean for being such a comfort and an affirmation of all that matters in life. Over the hills of northern San Diego County, up I-15 along with hordes of home-bound commuters and along the stretch of Highway 79 north, through suburban Temuecula and rural French Valley to Hemet and back over to I-10, it was back towards Arizona.

At midnight, I’m back at Home Base I. Another promise remains to be fulfilled-and that makes all the difference.

November 29, 2024, Grapevine- The three of us stood, overlooking Cattail Pond, as if it were the Pacific Ocean. In Dallas, any body of water will fill that bill. We took this 4-mile loop, after finishing off most of yesterday’s left overs, at today’s lunch.

Each trip around the Sun brings a theme, of sorts. Today begins a two-year stretch, centered on the notion of Diamond Jubilee-the road to that date (11/28/25), and the journey on the hard rock plateau, that follows the Jubilee. I’ve been asked, by at least one friend, how my travel plans are shaping up for 2025. The only things that are certain are that I will spend three weeks with my special someone and our circle of friends,in Home Base III, for three weeks: Late January to mid-February. From then on, I will again be in constant travel mode, save for a few key dates in the Spring that will tie things up at Home Base I. The scope and direction of my journeys will depend on what happens in February, but there will be much work to get done, regardless.

For the next few days, though, I am soaking up family love, at HB II. Partly because of my birthday having been celebrated and because of a general celebration of Thanksgiving, I have been in constant touch with friends in Prescott and the Philippines, and by extension, across the globe. It is salubrious and I thank everyone, near and far, who has taken the time to honour my life. It takes three seconds to type a “Thank you”, so that’s what I’ve done. (Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, by contrast, wrote out hundreds of Thank You notes, in pen and ink, after each event to which she was invited, or which was held in her honour. She always was, and is, the gold standard).

Cedar Ridge is a remnant of glacial fingers extending down into the north Texas prairie, and leaving this pleasing network of hillocks and ravines, as a contrast to the sweeping riparian Plains. We had our share of short, but steep, climbs and descents. Thanks to the Audubon Society, I can’t think of a better way to “recover” from Thanksgiving Feast, part I and part II.