Free Range

We woke to a beautiful day in Grants Pass and set out south.

The flora has a different look north and south of Siskyou Pass.  There is a very California feel south of the pass even though the summit is several miles north of the border.

We passed through a large area of fire-blackened trees on both sides of the freeway.  With so many fires in California in the last few years, I’m not sure which this one was.

As we drove south, the land flattened and the roads straightened.  I find this area not very interesting or picturesque, so I didn’t take any pictures.  It is a fertile land if it has water, but this time of year it is dry.  And this year it looks very, very dry.

Driving down the dull roads of the Sacramento Valley among the traffic, Andrea asked what I think about.  I think about my life, the world we are passing through, noticing our surroundings.  But mostly it is a form of meditation — other than paying attention to the road and traffic, I don’t think about anything in particular.  Getting away from home and the busy-ness there, I find this restorative.

We went through Chico but were too early in the day to see our friends there.  We both are finding these trips harder even though we don’t cover as many miles in a day as we used to.  So even though we are restored by sitting in the car and watching the world go by, it tires us, too.  It makes us wonder how many more years we’ll be able to do this.

After checking into our motel in Yuba City, we kept hearing a rooster crowing.  Walking to dinner, we saw chickens roaming about.  Evidently there are feral chickens everywhere in town, giving new meaning to the term Free Range.