The air is a perfect skin temperature, and the sky is a brilliant clear-blue, with the smattering of clouds a child might draw to indicate “sky”. The child’s sun is also hanging perfectly, casting just enough warmth so the gently-blowing breeze can take credit for cooling me a bit without being showy. 

I am sitting in a cheap plastic chair, next to the parking lot of a hamburger joint. An odd place to achieve a moment of pure harmony with the universe, I grant you. It might make a little more sense if you know that this one is in Santa Barbara, California, which is probably one of the most beautiful and relaxing places on the planet. 

Jim is stationed in San Diego, and my parents and I are visiting him and his family. We make a quick trip up the coast to Santa Barbara to do some touristy California things. For the Glynn’s that means walking. We’ve interrupted our city-hike at lunch time, and while everyone else goes inside to order, my job is to occupy a table. This is not a difficult job. It’s barely lunch time, as my father is one of those men who will NOT wait in line for food or a seat. 

I sit with my eyes closed, and turn my face towards the sun like a daisy, and literally bask. Time has stopped. There is no asphalt or cheap plastic, or traffic. Only a toasty hug from coastal California’s atmosphere. 

A hundred years later, my family starts coming outside with baskets of food. The aura of peace will nest inside me the whole trip, and make the excellent milk-shake and decent burger even more enjoyable. 

Later there will be palm-trees and the nicest grass I’ve ever seen in a public park, and many homeless people who have made enviable choices regarding places to subsist, undermining my life’s choices.