Selene and I leave the Seattle area tomorrow to visit our place in the Santa Cruz mountains. I love the rugged beauty of this northern place with its lofty Olympics oft bedecked in a soft mist, but home for me is still centered in the deep redwood forests mixed with Madrone, oaks, and firs. That land calls to me, pulls gently on my heart strings, and it reminds me to settle in deeply, feel the time locked in by those woods. An ocean laughs below, waving at us as we take flight in the metal dragon whose breath lifts us gently, whose radar eyes search ahead, whose sensitive ears hear the music of the VORTACs and whose internal sense of place confirm its traverse is on track. The pilots will let her ply the skies on her own. She is happy.