Its incredible how being in an entirely different place for 24 hours suddenly makes a short weekend so much more substantial.

What is it about getting older and working, that makes us less nomadic and spontaneous?

As I'm sitting here staring at a beautuful view of the mountain, ocean and city, I'm thinking about about how I used to pick up and go each weekend, and I need to start doing that again.

French pressed coffee, a blend of jazz, some fog and sun, all make for a blissful Sunday.

Photos to come.

M. I adore you and can't thank you enough for inviting me up to your magical place in the mountains.