A magnificent drawing of a bluebird flies over my desk in California. It is one of a few precious treasures from my 25 years in Charlotte that made the trek across the country. My son Jackson drew the picture when he was six: a bodacious bluebird flying over our southern home, the sun rising in the east. It is a precious and inspired drawing by a little boy at a painful time of change for our family.  It was the year his father and I ended our marriage and Jackson and I moved from the country into a brick bungalow in the heart of Charlotte. For 14 years it graced our home as Jackson grew up.

As the years passed, we did create a magnificent life. His father moved a few blocks away and was a constant source of support, love and direction for Jackson. Our home was filled with laughter and the ruckus of boys playing video games, basketball and electric guitar. I spent many tranquil hours in my backyard, transforming it into a small Garden of Eden. I watched hummingbirds, took pictures of butterflies and bees, nurtured every plant and flower, and myself in the process. Jackson made lifelong friends and so did I. We had our inevitable challenges and sorrows along the way, like the time our beloved cat died when Jackson was nine. He suggested we put on the song Let It Be by the Beatles. He stayed home from school and we cried our hearts out to the music.

I knew when he left for college, my work was done and my time in Charlotte had come to an end.  ‘For every season’…and this was mine. A new life in San Diego beckoned stronger than any ties, fear of the unknown or connection to a place I had come to love and call home. I have made wonderful new friends here.  Old friends have come to see me. Jackson takes the train down from LA for weekend visits. California has captured my heart.

These days, after I finish my work, I walk down to the beach to commune with salty birds, surfers and the ocean. I watch the sun melt into the horizon and the sky and sea turn gold, pink and red. Some early mornings I walk along the lagoon near my home, sit on my favorite bench watching dragonflies and ducks on the sparkling water. Weekends I hike in the hills overlooking the great Pacific. The ‘peace that the wild things bring’, settles over me, as Wendell Berry mused in his well loved poem.

This life is both terrible and beautiful. The heaviness of the world can take its toll and we can get easily pulled in. But, we are here for only an instant. It is just a blink of an eye.  How can we not live it to the deepest and fullest? As the poet Mary Oliver asks, “What shall you do with this one wild and precious life?”  As undefined as I have become, no longer living within the lines of the safe and familiar, I know I am more than well. This new life has brought beautiful new connections, adventures and delights  And the magic of a southern bluebird drawn long ago, continues to fly over me, boldly and bodaciously.