Incubation

While my intent is surely already underway at a solid speed north on the splendid CA-1, my feet of flesh and bone are still firmly planted here in Cambria, and tonight I will sleep in my bed in the borrowed 35 ft.travel trailer, TARDIS (so named because it looks so much larger on the inside than would seem possible when knocking at the front door---Doctor Who fans will understand) on the wind blown bluff that has been my home for the last 21 months. Tonight, I will dream of long, straight roads across the prairie. Harry lies next to me, eyes riveted, awaiting the next decision. He reminds me to be here now---that to miss a single moment of this togetherness would be a tragedy.

There is still so much to do. I am coming out of a hibernation of sorts---my body refusing to spend even one more moment in the face of the great northwest winds, searching for wild sea otters along the central coast of California. I am retired from this, oh my yes, but still have a task ahead to put the work of the last 21 months to bed and address some projects long forgotten in the face of 10 hour field days. But all the while the Road Trip, my incubating baby, kicks for attention. Since reading Steinbeck's Travels with Charley at the age of 18 (I am now a seasoned 51) I have longed to explore the country coast to coast, as he did with his black poodle and curmudgeonly demeanor. Now, a state of being "job-free" together with a will to jettison belongings, a call to waken my sleeping soul and a matchless canine companion converge on serendipity, and I am on the brink of the dream: a cross country adventure from my bluff in California to the woods of New Jersey and back again, with my beagle, Harry, in the co-pilot's seat.

In the window of the bedroom of the TARDIS, between the louvered window pane and the screen, is the tidy nest of a pair of house finches. They took advantage of our week-long absence and a window conveniently left ajar, to construct a nest and lay their eggs. While they seem to be distressed upon our return that the spot was not as vacant as they hoped, they persist and the nest is full with five sky blue, speckled eggs. I looked up the typical incubation and fledging time frame for such passerines (that is to say, I Googled it) and it seems these birds will be the time keepers for our launch . Two weeks to hatching, two weeks to fledging and it will be mid-August and Harry and I will be poised to fly from our wild Cambrian bluff.