"Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language" Henry James

After a month of traveling, it's great to be back home.  I've been relishing writing, reading, planning my fall classes, finishing up wedding details, and just enjoying seeing the familiar with fresh eyes. Travel is a windshield wiper that cleans off the glass through which we view home.

We're getting married at this spot in Hawaii later this month.

Santa Cruz weather has been warm and sunny. We quickly morphed from post-travel-unpacking-and-regrouping to entertaining mode.  We've had overnight guests and an on-the fly dinner party, hung out with friends downtown for a movie and great meal, and saw a free concert at the Boardwalk.

I'm reading Just Kids by Patti Smith, who dated Alan Lanier of Blue Oyster Cult.

That concert was Blue Oyster Cult, a band I first saw 30 years ago.  My favorite lyrics from one of their hits are:  "Seasons don't fear the reaper.  Nor do the winds and the summer rain.  We can be like they are."

I felt the freedom of flowing with the seasons, with life, as I took a run today.  I:

trestle bridge

* ran from my house across the trestle bridge
* passed by the Boardwalk's creaking and plunging roller coaster
* passed dozens of beach volleyball players
* cruised up the hill by the Dream Inn

Laural and me in the back car.

* ran a few miles along West Cliff, a pedestrian-only walkway overlooking the ocean
* enjoyed Vs of pelicans swooping by

Dave likes to photograph the beasts

* mentally high-fived the surfer statue
* passed the lighthouse
* viewed kayakers, surfers, swimmers, dogs, frisbee-players

Main Beach opalescence

* turned around at Natural Bridges
* enjoyed the mostly downhill cruise back
* and stopped at Cowell's beach, where I took off my shoes to refresh my hot feet in the cool water and then
* walked down more than half a mile of beach back home.

On my barefoot walk up our street back to our pad, I ran into some former students who happened to be heading to the beach.  We hugged, laughed at the serendipity of our surprise rendezvous, and basked in the summery-ness of it all.

Summer is the long weekend.  June is Friday.  July is Saturday.  August is Sunday.

Happy Saturday!