Wow, after singing praises for the kindness that lives in Humboldt, after a beautiful sunset, friends or friendliness, good morning coffee, a nice drive, and a good walk, I found a wonderful place to take a nap, even if I wasn't with Leticia… and someone just had to go and steal my blue guitar.  Really?!  I loved that guitar!  The night before it had been a loaf of bread, and the night before that a bag of bagels, but those incidents I had blamed on a four-legged, ground animal – the culprit of the guitar was certainly human.  And yet, in the same spirit of acceptance and forgiveness, I found myself hoping it was appreciated, wherever it had gone… I know, it probably got traded for a bag of drugs, or it'll end up hidden away in someone's closet out of shame.  And I'm partly to blame.  It was the only thing I showed off and bragged about, and I did leave it unattended in my jeep without doors.  I have to wonder if this is a metaphor for the love of my life.  But why shouldn't I share beauty, even if I don't intend for it to be taken from me.  I mean, it was a well-crafted instrument, with a slim, curved body, a cutaway, and inlaid mother of pearl.  Photos could not capture it's strength or character.  Everybody liked that guitar.  And it's more blue-green than blue, ironically.  Maybe I shouldn't complain… they did leave behind a far more expensive radio, a laptop, camera equipment which I had with me, and guns that I would have happily showed them had I noticed their interest in my things.  Nobody tried to steal the jeep, either, so that's good.  I just can't stand guard all the time and still have pictures to share, and that's what this trip was all about, the light and love – my love.  So may it be, in the twistedness of fate, that my blue guitar should be left to a place that has taken everything I had to give and then some, but showed me how to love again.  And this is neither a rant nor a rave, but more of a farewell to places and things, home now, where I wait, still missing her.

Indigo