The chocolate factory.

July 7, Eureka, California.

It's almost boring.
Someone give me the bland, utterly uninteresting, bordering on downright negligible landscape of the Midwest, say, southern Illinois (nothing personal, just used to live there,) a change from all this, road 101 South to Eureka, the redwoods again, the plunging Pacific vistas, the breathtaking views, the sheer beauty of it all, all along this coast, falling in love with each town, Ventura, Monterey, Ashland, now Eureka and its artists' community, not one, not two, but four bookstores within a couple of blocks, the light on the marina at sunset (and again, we've set up house by the water, literally we can touch it,) all this beauty, this perfection, place after place, it's almost boring, really, like too much chocolate fudge, really. Join the circus and walk into the chocolate factory. Overdose, think about retiring to Indiana.