So much for the dedication part... Summer is full on and the 4th of July past ... and I've failed you readers.... so sorry... the dogs are glad for the Big Sur cool temps and so am I ! Keeps the hot flashes at bay!   Anyway.. we travelled the road of decades past last week and found the golden velvet hills, and redwood covered valleys reaching into our souls and authoring new melodies!  THIS is the Big Sur I can feel.  Inspiration!  WHOO HOO !!!  A moment or two over the running Little Sur River with a tin whistle and on to views that halt the breathing!  Fog exploring the inland hills of the coast is touchable... and parts for the intrusion of flesh or fiberglass... rejoining itself  for the visual pleasure of the intruder. Nature tolerates us!!!    Enjoy with me the photographical evidence of this journey... 

Whether by artist's easel with canvas and paints, or the shutter of digital imagery captured and stored, the view of the Highway 1 becomes an historical mark in the memory of hundreds today.  Just three miles from our destination my own camera comes out to photograph an afternoon stroll in the meadow alongside the road.  This proud buck shows no interest in the excited lady skipping along the fence line to keep up with his pace. I never want to take these moments for granted!  Nature's trail and man's, parallel.    

Driving down the Highway 1 on a classic June afternoon, being a "tourist". Condor glide overhead, not hesitating for the camera to focus. Not even AWARE of the camera or its operator. Surfers and sea lions sharing the same waves, voices sounding alike rising the distance 1000 feet above the scene. Warmth of the sunshine blending with the cool ocean breezes, satisfying the flesh and the spirit. The Pacific Ocean is not angry today. It gently rocks and rises beneath the kelp beds. Miles out on the horizon the ocean and sky softly touch each other barely defining their separation.

I realize from this day I am receiving the inspiration, encouragement, and peace I am seeking.  

The coastal, chaotic, violent waves.

Too loud to hear me think! Certainly not serene! Defending my skin from the attacks of the hurling sand! Draw tight the hood of my jacket to contain the flailing lengths of hair and wondering if the knotted ends could ever be convinced to release their grip on each other again!  Just to add insult ... the fog bank so wet, so thick, that the sun seems never to have existed. And me, solar energised! 

Can I possibly get inspiration from this!?...      Had I not journeyed here from there, I'd not know this moment. Artistically attractive, economically challenging. Less than a five minute walk from this is a deafening silence, the omission of all sounds of technology's man made distractions. And the ocean's powerful exhibit. Wildlife with names and species unknown to me, overhead, calling out sounds to each other and then some. Those on the terra firma dare me to come closer. 

Here for "a space in time" describes my life's journey. And so ... I am... and Grubulah, with me since those days in New Mexico.   

Once Upon A Time...

This is the beginning....

Bedtime stories make lifelong memories. Especially the ones which have no ending. And so is the story of  "Grubulah".  You are invited to follow this blog for the journal of the "Adventures of Grubulah"  and his many contrary friends.

Blogs will be entered as routinely as possible in a world filled with too busy days and too short nights. This will be a compound exercise in dedication, my part,

and patience, your part. 

Fear NOT! The "dogs" will play into the "blogs" in time!    

And "aawayyyeee we goooooo!"