Bee Behind Bars

Some places look exactly as you picture them. Take San Clemente, for example. It’s a different kind of downtown, like so many coastal cities in California. Instead of skyscrapers, Spanish and mission style architecture lines the street. Red tile roofs, arches, white stucco… and you can’t forget the palm trees. They’re a staple. They proudly announce that you’re 100% for certain in the heart of Southern California. 

The funniest thing about that image is that the palm tree is not native here, and “here” is the entirety of North America. Thanks to the mild desert climate, it has both thrived and become the symbol of SoCal. Just like us motorcyclists who travel beyond our initial roots, we discover that perhaps we were meant to spread out, find a “somewhere” we are well-suited for, and let ourselves grow in far away places. It’s never too late to uproot yourself and discover a second, third, or eighteenth home. 

I feel like I belong exactly where I am, where I grew up, and halfway around the world all at the same time. It’s allowed, just ask the palm trees.