I couldn’t quite come up with an understanding of Saturday on Saturday. How it was, how I was, how I am. The day felt like it was scooting about 90 minutes ahead of me from 9a to 5p. Most every time I left home to go one way the Camry turned and I went another. And then arriving exactly on time to that new place, examples of crazy serendipity too numerous to mention.
It lingered into Sunday morning, a freaky chance meeting with a man years ago beloved by my son Spenser, and me, and loved back at us equally. The joy seeing me after all this time was clear in his eyes. It must of been in my eyes too.
Then, the same and yet another Sunday, my SLO friend Jorge and I continued our every-other-Sunday meetings yesterday, this time from a serious distance through his Cal Poly insights of Zoom workings. Really, really wonderful and lovely.
Since I’ve been back here in Portland, and it will be two weeks tomorrow, the sense of actions happening and me catching up a bit later has been woven through most of those days. It’s kind of amazing.
from a mountain bench 
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