I arrived on Wednesday evening, leaving Coronado at a comfortable 80°-ish degrees around 7:30 am and arriving in Denver at 5:45 pm in bone-chilling cold. Well, maybe not to you, dear reader, but it felt cold to me. Mid 40s, and a brisk northerly breeze froze my delicate and inconsequential tukas. Since then, I’ve adjusted a bit to cooler temperatures, and to a distinct lack of the color green in the landscape. I do miss hearing the surf, and swimming in the warm ocean water. But one does what one needs to do.
Why am I here? I needed to return to take care of some things related to my mom’s passing in January, that just weren’t feasible to do long distance. To that end, I’m not really sure how long I’ll stay in the states. Maybe a couple of weeks, maybe longer. It’s a conundrum in that if I leave too soon, I may need to simply turn around and come back for something else.
In the meantime, I’m going to Groundhog Day last October, and tool around visiting family and friends in CO, while determining what to do and where to go next. I’ll probably go back to Coronado, since I have a lease for a couple more months. I don’t have to though, since I’ve brought along all my belongings. As one does.
I’ve been reunited with the Volvo, and it’ll be my steed – worthiness to be determined – for the length of my visit. I have places to go and papers to sign and people to see and people to meet. I just wish it was warmer.