Coming Home (27)

I've taken my first class at College of the Desert, a little one-unit course in the Natural Resources department called "Backyard Birds." Three Thursday nights and two Saturdays, I was surprised how much time it seemed to take up, how much stress it added. It was meant only for my own pleasure, time I carved out months ago for myself. Was it too hard adding this in, trying to get all my work and chores done around it? Yes, I thought, but I wasn't sorry I did it. It inspired me to consider getting my naturalist certificate, maybe both from COD and from the Living Desert. It is likely to take years, but it appeals to me. It is the natural world that draws me, that ties me in, brings me home. And taking this class rid me of my old aversion to the college, clearing away the debris from my nightmare interview experience there years ago. My third trip to class, I had a moment driving onto the campus when my heart fluttered at the familiarity, when I could feel it becoming mine. I had a similar moment riding my bike to the farmer's market a handful of Saturday's ago. My path was known. There was something so satisfying about that. My community college, my desert home. It's all of a piece.