Monarchs and Merigolds

I have always wanted to witness the mass migration of the monarch butterfly and I got my chance this last weekend I got my chance. I din't mention in my previous blog Thursday exactly where the writing seminar Geri and I attended this last weekend was, but it was at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur, where the monarchs stop to rest and copulate in the marigold bushes.

After all these years of hearing about other people's experience we finally had our Esalen cherries popped. It's a great place to go and commune with nature, eat great organic foods, meet wonderful intelligent people, and learn about so many things, not the least of all one's self, and the monarchs. 

It is a bucolic, Upton Sinclair, uptopian socialistic existence that is truly captivating. I could have used a couple of more days, or maybe years, there. 

The writing seminar we took was sponsored by the Sun magazine, a reader/writer publication that has been in production for 40 years now.  Sy Syfransky is the founder of the magazine. A kind, funny, gentle, compassionate human being. 

Our time was spent in workshops writing, reading our works, and listening to other writers 

read their works. In between the workshops there was food, or you could schedule a massage, go for  a swim in the poll, take a hot-bath in sulfur spas, or go for a hike. There were people from all over the globe there, and quite a few people from the Bay Area. We met one of the former editors of the Sun magazine living right around the corner from our home. 

From Oakland you can get to and from Esalen on a tank of gas. Once your're there you don't need to, or want to, go anywhere. 

Located on the central coastline of the Pacific, and perched on a few hundred acres of flat land above the cliffs, one looks down on a magnificent kelp bed ocean. A mixture of salt water, sulfur, and patchouli oil fills the air. Above us were higher cliffs I feared would come crashing down on me at any moment because I was guilty of having way too much fun. 

When we did arrive back home, after dropping a fellow traveler in San Francisco, we were greeted by happy furry family members. Of course Merle had just vomited on the bed. It was feeding time

again.  The thin thread that connected me to the other world was broken. Still, there is no place like

your own space.

Special shout outs to Ocean. Please come and rest your body after your cycle to Baja. Tim, please keep in touch. I'm ready to write. The woman from PA who's name I cannot recall who was there every time we turned around, and who I was always happy to see, please come visit us next time.
And of course Alex, keep in touch.

It was an old hippie's dream come alive.

Life is what happens between meals.

That's it.

Peace, 

Make Food/Not War

Food consumption;

Breakfast;  2 egg sandwich on wheat toast, black tea w/honey

Lunch; grilled pannini  sandwich w/French ham, gruyere cheese and artichokes and a small salad

Dinner; turkey sandwich w/avocado, lettuce, mayo, & mustard