We consider what to do and among the thoughts is the expense of two places to maintain while we attempt to live a life on the road.
While I am in Yuma with the energy of the looming barren mountains and daily sun beaming down, I am quite content to walk the neighborhood streets, live life outdoors and soak up the sounds of my fountain. It’s ours for the improving. The neighbors are wonderful. Doves coo.
So, I forget for a time, the cry of the gulls and the freshness of the evergreen-soaked air that surrounds our doll house in Coos Bay. The neighbors here are different; after all, they come and go. Even though we’ve improved it, we can’t stay on the lot without a monthly rental payment. There are no visually sweeping vistas to enjoy, just the evergreen treetops cavorting in the wind, birds soaring, and thick blankets of fog moving in by evening. But it has a definite hold, sunk deep with the teeth of novelty, old habit and comfort.
Both places call to my soul. The perfect juxtaposition—the perfect blend of retirement havens if we can manage to hang on.
