I'm walking the path of this life in progress and a road sign appears in the near distance, growing larger and more distinct day by day. If I squint just a bit I can see it from here. It says:

36

I will reach that sign next Tuesday, March 4th, and I will pass it by with nary a backward glance as I continue down the road.

Before I reach that milestone, however, I will celebrate its imminence this very weekend at Deetjen's Big Sur Inn thanks to my beautiful Sarah. She surprised me with a weekend getaway to one of our sacred places in honor of my approaching birthday. We leave today at noon to commune with redwoods and sea and the silence of eternity which enfolds this holy place on the California coast.

Ah, yes, we�re going to the country. . .

Cities are graveyards for the living,
a pessimistic thought, I admit.

But it seems the truth out here where the trees are tall
and the air so clear
at night the Milky Way spills across the sky
and I can actually see it.

Where has my soul hidden while my body languished,
shackled to a desk?
Where did it go while the rest of me juggled files
and typed figures on computer keys?

Not far,
only a world away.

It's been alternately dozing
and composing sonnets
In the mossy sunlight
beneath redwood trees wise with years.

"Here I am," it says.
"What took you so long?"