I'm Back!

Yes, I’m back. After a seven week, self-imposed sabbatical, don’t you think it’s time?

This past Sunday my husband and I made our first visit of the year to the beautiful hot spring location we love so much. It would be wonderful to make this a monthly habit but that never seems to be a plan we can count on. We brought a guest along with us this time; a woman with whom I work who, I discovered much to my delight, is a kindred spirit of the naturist persuasion. She is the activity director at the facility where I work; an occupation with challenges that cry out for the soothing, peaceful balm the Springs offer.

We drove up together in our car, enjoyed a nice visit during the ride and then went our separate ways until lunchtime. It’s difficult to imagine even wanting to go to a place like this in the middle of January only to remove your clothing knowing full well that the sole time you’ll be indoors is for a meal. The human body adapts amazingly well to tolerating cooler temperatures and, after all, this is California. It isn’t a case of standing knee deep, naked, in snowy, 30 degree weather.

There’s an incredible beauty to the Springs in the winter which is hard to describe. You can be sure all the warm spots are eagerly sought out. The steam room and sauna are fuller than usual. The private tubs (nice roomy tubs with enough room for two to lounge comfortably) are usually all occupied. The big communal hot tub and the smaller pool into which it overflows are full to capacity. It’s all very cozy and companionable and it doesn’t seem to matter at all that the skies are grey, rain is imminent and the usual colorful explosion of flora is absent. There are many pine and bay trees, green and fragrant and they are pleasing to see. There’s something very satisfying about sitting or lying in a small body of water, the steam rising into the cool air surrounding you; you’re on low simmer and it feels so indulgently good.

We always bring our books to read but more often than not, they never even make it out of the backpack. There’s too much to look at, too much to listen to, to much to talk or daydream about. After a few hours of these dreamy pleasantries, stomachs begin to growl. It’s time for lunch and lunch at the Springs for us is a treat beyond words but I’ll try.

My husband prepares for Springs visits ahead of time and had stashed away in the freezer a goodly amount of a wonderful soup he made recently for a future visit. Soup, bread and wine was the order of the day. My husband took himself away to the communal kitchen in the lodge and worked some of his magic. By the time he rounded up our guest and me to announce that it was time to eat, we were met with a table completely set for the meal, bread sliced, soup heated, wine on table with mankind’s greatest invention close at hand, wine glasses, red seedless grapes in a bowl. Awesome! The man was in his true element of providing and setting out a minor feast and basking in our appreciation of same. Damn, he’s good at this--a master.

We had a long, leisurely meal and after cleaning up, returned to the waters for a few more hours’ enjoyment. The time to depart this magical place is always earlier in the winter months to ensure a safe drive home in relative daylight. The road to the Springs is one I don’t wish to travel in the dark and more often than not, I am the one who drives home. It’s so hard to tear ourselves away from here. We want to stay forever. As the car climbs the first hill traveling away from the Springs, I’m already thinking and looking forward to our next visit. I hope it’s soon.