Reaching For the Clouds

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I’ve been coming to Redding for years now, and never visited one of its best sites: Sundial Bridge. Visible from most of the valley, the sharp white needle soars into the sky above the black-bottomed Canadian geese that squawk through the Sacramento River below. We visited on a stormy afternoon. Murky clouds pressed against the spiky treetops and cast iron highlights on the river.

The long green-glass bridge grew slippery as tiny drops fell, while water beaded in my husband’s rich red beard and on my forearm, casting the fine hairs into relief. Laughing teenagers skated on the glass and families ran for cover. Our hearts filling with the serenity of the river and the majesty of the glowing structure, we held hands and wandered about until the bustling world called.

Redding, CA / late afternoon / Sundial Bridge

Mountains Run in My Blood

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A cool transparency to the air, a direct sunlight that shivers in the pale green trees, and the jagged outline of the mountains all around me, echoing the geography of my heart… where am I?

Granby, Colorado, 5 years ago. I am young, hopeful, heartbroken, and wildly alive for the first time. I sit on a balcony with a notebook and a pen and try to capture the tumult of my heart and the grandeur surrounding me. Joy wells up, tempered with pain.

Redding, northern California. After an excruciating drive from the smoggy wilderness of Los Angeles through the plains and fertile washes of Central California, to the saturated colors and meandering rivers of the north, where we drove with all our goods and gear in our two aging vehicles, I take a breath and let it out slowly. I am in sight of real mountain again, and my heart is alive.

Redding, CA + Granby, CO / morning / off the grid

Coffee Wednesday: A Nod to Tradition–Spella Cafe

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Step into Spella Caffe and find yourself transported, if not in time, at least in locale. Now I’ve not been to Italy, but from what I read, Spella is an inspired take on a classic Italian espresso bar. And in the midst of Portland’s 3rd-wave coffee culture, a refreshing nod to tradition.

Slender and stylish, the caffe allows for only a few customers at a time, accentuating the “expressly-for-you” nature of the service. A Rancilio  piston-lever machine, combined with some really killer barista skills, create a cappuccino with foam so thick and ‘goopy’ it’s like marshmallow fluff. How’s the espresso? Burnt sugar, oak, sweet cranberry, tactile, and pleasantly lingering.

Portland, OR / afternoon / Spella Caffe

The Secret of Discovering Vision

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Vision. It was lacking, or rather sporadic, for me until recently. Until, actually, we became unexpectedly pregnant with our Little Alien and started having to get our shit together. In a few short months we left the cradle of Independence, MO, and embarked on a country-wide road trip to discover whatever it was we were meant to do in life.

What we discovered was how much we loved coffee and coffee people across the country. I had the same feeling this week while visiting San Diego. Cupping four coffees from around the world–an Ethiopia, a Guatemala, a Honduras, and a Papua New Guinea–in the light-filled space at InterAmerican, I felt that I had come home.

This community? It gives meaning and direction. Count me in.

–San Diego, CA / mid-morning / InterAmerican Coffee