June 25 -- Transition

So our days living within Betty have drawn to a close. In many ways that makes me feel sad. Sure, it was not easy work living out of a camper van with a toddler, sorting and tossing bags and items around on a nearly hourly basis just to try to get things like cooking done. But by now we really have all of that down to a science. I don't know that Jarrett and I really ever verbalized much in terms of our plan of action as far as our organization tactics were concerned, but we both ended up moving in motion with one another, and really figured out the camper van lifestyle. Now we are in hotel rooms until we head out on that jet plane on Monday. But that has not yet kept us from the hippy way of life. We are in a Holiday Inn Express in Berkeley tonight, which is actually quite nice. But we have slightly damp laundry strewn about the room, as I did two loads of laundry nearly as soon as we arrived since we had not done so since last Saturday in Yosemite and we were all forced to put dirty pants on (again) today when shorts proved to be too cold. We also ended up heating up some Mexican leftovers in our in-room microwave and turned them into nachos with some canned refried beans and tortilla chips we still had on hand from previous grocery shopping trips. And poor Jarrett was still left doing the dishes.







I mean, heck, who would let their child run around like this?







Tomorrow things get a little more fancy, as we officially have reservations at Chez Panisse's cafe for lunch. I cannot wait.

Today we had another romp in the woods -- Muir Woods. I know I said that I thought the forest we walked through during the hike on the Trail of the Sequoias was my quintessential walk in the woods, but I think Jarrett and I agree that Muir Woods beats it out, even despite the paved path and hoards of people visiting right there with us. We had to walk probably a mile-and-a-half up the road to the main parking lot and entrance from where we parked the van because people were parked that far down the road, all along the shoulder. The people were really getting on my nerves, but the redwood trees, huge patches of redwood sorrel, and massive, gorgeous ferns, as well as the meandering stream, all made up for it. As John Muir said himself, when he was given the honor of having this beautiful piece of land named after him, "This is the best tree-lovers monument that could possibly be found in all the forests of the world."































It feels so strange as this trip winds down. There is such a mixed, flowing sea of emotions. We have seen some of the most -- if not THE most -- beautiful sights this state has to offer. We have been so privileged to be able to spend these three-plus weeks as a family, living so close to nature. There have been difficult times, and stressful times, and times when we have just about wanted to throw in the towel and catch the next plane home. There is even a part of me that is truly ready to get home and sleep in my own bed and have free reign of a real, true house again. But these weeks have flown by. And I cannot believe that in just a couple of days we must say goodbye -- at least for now. Nature has been good to us, and good for us. Even during the most difficult times, once we could get into those woods, out on a trail, and high on a mountain, everything seemed to come into focus and make a bit more sense. Again, John Muir says it best, and with his words, I leave you.

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees, the winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."