Aside from the travel disasters, it was a really great trip

Knowing Sis had had such a radical surgery, I was expecting to be met at the Santa Rosa shuttle stop by her neighbor while Sarah waited, pale and weak, in the car.

Wrong.

There she stood, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to great me with a big hug. Admittedly, it was a careful hug, given that long row of staples on her right side. Before heading for the hills, we shopped at Target (to replace essentials on the lam with my luggage) and two grocery stores. Sis shopped right along with us.

It was nearly dark when we started up the long, winding, rugged mountain road. Ellen, the kindly neighbor at the wheel, went barreling along, careening around the switchbacks with no hesitation whatever - even through patches of fog too thick to see the hood of her sure-footed Toyota truck. She makes this drive every week, you see. She owns that road.

The next morning I woke to a thrilling sunrise. Every day of my stay started with this vivid pink in varying patterns. As quietly as I could, I slipped out of the bed and pulled on a sweatshirt against the morning cold. By the time I made coffee and wondered out onto the porch, the day was underway. The panorama spread before me in every direction with surreal clouds of fog defining the ridges of mountains. Sister Sarah has lived here for 27 years now. It’s easy to see how such a place can lay claim to your soul.