oh, Lagunitas...

i am unable to come back to my childhood stomping ground without seeing one of my beloved friends from childhood, Galen Woodruff. anybody that has spent more than ten minutes with me has probably heard a story about Galen, and the crazy situations we've gotten ourselves into over the years. The log ride down the swollen river, constructing and flying our own hang glider, stealing and sailing boats. (ahh the memories!)

in late '05 he bought a house (and by house, i mean shack that was covered in garbage and a bane to the neighbors and county) in the woodsy and magical Lagunitas. Only Galen could go from living in a garage/shack (where he also built his guitars) that was situated 10ft from the cliff in Bolinas, overlooking the ocean and edge of our fair continent, to living in a hundred year old house overhanging a creek/river in the redwoods of NorCal.

i think that God has kept us spirit connnected through all these years, and every time i retreat to Lagunitas to 'recharge', i thank God for this friendship.

i was napping yesterday afternoon, yet finding no peace. i awoke from troubling dream with a weary spirit. i jumped in the car and headed out the backroads to go see him. the sun. the roling brown grass hills. the way the redwoods obscure the sun, the light and shadows dancing on my windshield as i pass under their majestic branches.

i arrived to a bear hug from my old friend. as i sat on his cabin porch (this is the little cabin that he built in 3 weeks that he lives in while he's rebuilding his beautiful house, and it's gorgeous), and sipped some exotic beer, with the familiar sound of the creek babbling not more than a couple feet down the embankment. The warm sun and the damp air makes it all so dream like. I look around and see the latrene that we built, the stairs that I built, and the nearly-done wood floor in the main house that I helped put in. it's so good to feel like you've contributed to somthing that is solid. we've had so many laughs (and beers) as we worked in the times (sadly few and far between) when I'm 'up north'.

we ate BBQed ribs and made a fire. as the darkness fell, his girlfriend and I prompted him to break out his guitar (that he built) and play for us. how right it felt for the music to rise up amongst the trees. we sat and he played. and the world felt right for a few minutes.

i left late last night, as i always eventually do, for some unknown adventure. whether on to SB or the open road, i know that I can always go back and find some notes of peace.

Lord, never let me stray too far that i cannot return to Lagunitas.