Some time ago...

I set out on a journey. My only intention was be with myself in a kind way to honor a loss.

I sat in the living room of a coastside B&B and sipped a glass of wine as I enjoyed the company of the innkeepers.

I drew a bath and soaked.

I slept well and rose gently.



I rocked for awhile in a rocker at the end of the hall.

I listened to the quiet of having the inn to myself.

I ate a fine breakfast and bid my hostess goodbye.

Rambling through the backroads along the coast, I passed fields of strawberries clustered with workers squatting to harvest the fruit.


Alyssa A, Marina High School, 11th Grade, Acrylic

I stopped in an antique shop and fingered through old books. One book was a discarded baby book of a mother's son born in the 20s who died in the 50s. The book included a thick lock of his blonde curl and told the story of his first outing to a Sunday luncheon at his aunt's.



Bundled in my woolies, I pulled to the side of the road to watch the surf of the ocean under a swath of fog.

There was nothing I needed to see and nowhere I needed to be.

So I wandered.

Along the way I discovered a landmark from the Mexican period of California's history: Monterey's La Miranda adobe.





And then the time came to return home.