Raw, adjective: 2. not having undergone processes of preparing, dressing, finishing, refining, or manufacture


And good morning again from San Francisco, where the fog rolled in last night circa 6:45 and has hung around like a down blanket ever since.

Raw whirlwind of a week, lots of driving and nectarines and sweat and crawling around on hands and knees and now, an almond cream cheese cake in the oven as I listen to the City wake up.

Raw muscles from lifting and cleaning and stretching new stretches.

Raw cantaloupes and strawberries and overpriced organic grapes from the Whole Foods around the corner on returning instead of from the farmstand by the side of the road on the edge of the Ocala National Forest.

Raw mosquito and fireant bites now healing from humid morning yoga sessions in the pine-lined backyard. Newts included, practicing handstands.

Raw memories being made, new and old, some ten years ago, others freshly minted. Sisters. And a brother Skyping in from Switzerland. Not bad.

Raw sand in my gritty salt-soaked hair after an idyllic afternoon at Ormond Beach, prematurely cut short by the threatening billows of a thunderstorm blowing in from the west.

Raw humor in the new Sasha Baron Cohen movie; I laughed hard, and often, and out loud, but walked away thinking Borat was better, and less tragic, somehow.

Raw prospects of so many landscaping projects to be done and banana palms to be planted and pear trees and Japanese magnolias and crepe myrtle and the fastest seven-hour flight home ever as I planned seeds to be sown, literal and figurative, in the months to come.

Raw cherries perpetually in my messenger bag; what a good time of year for fruits, and skies.

Raw writings, scrawled unconsciously in the half-light of Deep South evenings, to be turned into polished stones now that I am back here and settled in my comfortably cool grey morning of a life.

It's good to be home, always, SF, my heart. There's much writing and baking and stretching and planning to be done. But first, let me take the cake out of the oven; my house smells of almond, it's still early, and things are blooming.

Comments

Anonymous said…
A 7 hour flight just to get to FL! Yikes, I am going to be as far as from you in Canada, as I will be from Europe!

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