Less than a hundred miles from here, the Colorado River flows slow and lazy past our family cabin and towards Matagorda bay. There's a certain spot on a hill where I like to sit in the grass and watch the river and empty my head of all thought. Right now I can see that spot in my mind's eye and I can see the white tufts of Cotton Wood seeds floating on the breeze. I can feel the sun at my back, and the breeze on my face.
I'm heading that way in about ten minutes. It's a short trip, just a day. But the place and the river are calling my name. The upside of being unemployed is that on a Tuesday afternoon, I can answer.