Northern Dreams

Reminiscin' about a trip late winter. Windy redwood lined roads. Camp. Big fire. Talking about waves. Some girl pickin' a banjo versus the harmonica wailin'. Someone brings up a hidden point they heard about years ago. Never found it, and if they did, it wasn't working. Interests are peaked in our foggy heads. Fire dwindles as our plans grow.

Dewey tent as I hear sticks being tossed at it. Grab a banana and a bar and hop in the truck. Three of us keep last nights dreams going. Green, purplish, gray, twisting road to the coast. Silence except for the strains of Garcia's pickin' from one speaker. Park behind a tree on the shoulder. Backpacks and surfboards become lighter as the joint comes around for another visit. Beautiful, calm, dense, alive forest. Ammmpin' by now. Skipping to the edge. Eyes bug out!

Score.

Quiet.

Didn't miss my hometown at all that weekend.