New

New year, new job, new place. New environment. I'm moving somewhere where it never rains.

I usually look back at New Year's and think about the past year, but this one is strange, because I haven't moved yet (four days out), haven't started the new job yet (eight days out). I have some hope for my professional future at last, but when I moved back to the Bay Area from L.A. in 1999, I hoped I would never be forced to leave again.

I can't think about the things I won't have time to do one last time, the places I won't be able to visit, the song of a winter wren in the redwood forest dark. There are no redwoods where I'm going.

Coyote rocks in moonlight, here I come.