Tag Archives: Land’s End

Cabo’s Mystical Beauty

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Oct. 16, 2009

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My husband and I returned home last night after 12 days in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. I’m sitting here at my kitchen table, which is loaded with the Halloween motif our son put up while we were gone, an empty bottle of tequila given to me by Sammy Hagar at one of his concerts (it was half full when he gave it to me), my digital camera and camera cards, a bottle of cipro antibiotic (a must for a trip to Mexico), a colorful, hand-painted fish mobile I’d purchased at one of the shops in Cabo and a pile of junk mail and bills that’s still too intimidating to tackle. Oh, and the decorative candle in the centerpiece of my table has been replaced with one that looks like a bleeding skull.

I’m still trying to process everything that took place over the past few weeks. It rained most of the time we were in Mexico—rained in Cabo!So I didn’t get much of a tan. But when the sun came out, it was marvelous. On our last day, yesterday, I got up early to watch the sun rise over the Sea of Cortez and the rocks of Land’s End. My photos don’t do it justice.

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The sun was hot pink as it lifted out of the water and the higher it rose, the hotter it got until it drew beads of sweat from my skin. There were two cruise ships in the bay and hundreds of fishing boats heading out to sea, something that hadn’t taken place for several days due to Tropical Storm Patricia—how ironic is that name?

But yesterday morning Cabo was back to her normal, splendid self—hot, humid and sunny. It seems so dark here in Colorado, but at least it’s not snowing.

As I get back into the swing of my old life, I will tackle the task of finishing revisions of my book and keep you posted on its progress. I’m almost finished. I will also write more about Cabo and Sammy Hagar’s concerts while we were down there (my husband and I were fortunate to be able to acquire tickets to all five shows), and I’ll post a few pics.

Besides Cabo’s alluring beauty, I did have several moments during this trip that I consider somewhat mystical—interesting at least. One of those moments was when a woman sat next to me on the plane from Phoenix to Denver and the two of us hit it off as if we’d known each other before. Maybe we have—she told me that she owns a metaphysical bookstore in California. It never ceases to amaze me where the writing of my book “Wings of Rock” seems to be taking me.

For right now though, I have about 50 loads of laundry to catch up on. Stay tuned…

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Key to the Soul

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December 5, 2010

This morning while I sat writing at my desk, I heard a sparrow chirp as it flew from the tree in my backyard and I wondered what it meant. I’m not talking about the fact that the bird was probably communicating with its own species, maybe warning fellow sparrows that “This is my territory, so don’t even think of moving in while I’m out looking for breakfast.”

I’m talking about what it meant to me and why I had heard its voice in the first place. It reminded me of when all our family members used to go camping together at Steamboat Lake. There was a species of bird native to the area there, one I’d never seen or heard before, and its song was “swee-pee-pee, swee-pee-pee…”

Being a lover of wild birds, my dad found this quite amusing and did his best to imitate the bird. My father has been gone for years now, but we still talk about the swee-pee-pee bird with fond memories of Dad’s impressions of it.

And now, I wonder what that bird’s song meant too. It’s as if, to my ears, there’s a hollowness that follows the sound—something the bird’s voice has left behind in me that germinates in my soul and begins to grow.

It’s the same with the stars. When I look at them, I’m filled with such awe that I wonder what their message is, because I am certain that they carry a message just for me. And the ocean and the rocks of Land’s End in Cabo. When I look at them too, there’s this soundless sound that comes to me—and it reverberates in my entire being, telling me there is something out there that I just have to know and if I listen hard enough, long enough or sincerely enough, I’ll be able to decipher its meaning.

It’s a language my head doesn’t understand, but my heart does. And somewhere within it, lies the key to my soul.