Spending a week in the desert fortifies the soul for the ungodly forces of late winter on the plains.
Casual mornings allow for my fill of rich, decadent coffee, brewed with freshly ground beans. A dab of creamer — usually reserved as a treat on weekends — give a silky smooth finish to each tip of the cup.
Without rush or worry, a slow and methodical process begins: a carefully selected outfit tailored to the temperature (just in case the early morning desert air offers a chill), adjusting shoelaces and selecting audio to drown out the city just beyond the walls of the canal.
It’s a mostly carefree existence afforded by winter vacations to a warm climate. An escape from the harsh realities of life back in the Midwest.
Returning home, vacation is over, but optimism fills my soul, which is overeager for spring’s arrival and the shedding of layers to buffet against the extremes.