You can feel winter in the change from the smell of desert rock to ocean brine in the air; the shift of southern sun not quite able to ward the chill from your house’s bones; the orange red mornings and pink dusks like lenses thrown over a picture; the way the Pacific seeps into the air, causing rivers of fog to flow along the canyons. All these and more are winter here.
I spend much of my life hustling through tasks until the day when my real life magically starts. But in September, I decided that this is my real life and I need to actually live it. To put practices in place that feed who I am.