Highway 101 curves ahead, shiny with recent rain, a wet silver snake that slithers through forest and along roadside cliffs, leading me from my home in Northern California to my Oregon destination. The weather shifts once again. Rain, snow, and brilliant sun have presented themselves in an ever-changing and unpredictable dance as I make my way north. My goal today is to travel as far as Gold Beach.

The road is my new normal after tragedy struck last year. My husband of 35 years slipped from this life after a pancreatic cancer diagnosis. It left me empty, shocked, and emotionally devastated, but from the ashes of my grief a phoenix rose, one that rekindled adventure in my soul. So, I press forward, curious, longing to share through my virtual pen the things I discover.

The bare limbs of winter trees are shrouded in the soft green of hanging moss. They become my muse. Suspended wisps of fog curl between them, adding mystery, and a memory of childhood hikes through coastal forests is sparked. I shudder with an internal thrill and am reminded that it's always been this way. Nature and my soul have intertwined since my youngest years. Now this love affair, long dormant, is reignited, creating a hunger that can only be satiated with full immersion, and later, expression through writing.

To my right, a flutter of wings reveals a hawk diving for prey on a passing bank. Moments later, one flies low in front of me, so close that the details of its feathers are clear on its rounded rust-colored belly and spotted wings. I form words in my head to describe the experience as I drive.

Inspiration comes as a swollen Eel River accompanies me for miles on end. Sometimes I glimpse it through trees, sometimes low in a canyon, where it runs grey-green like jade. At times it matches the road's curves, at others it rushes under an old bridge as the road crosses above.

Redwoods, astounding in their girth and height, kiss the road's edges, so close that a passenger could have touched them had I paused.

I leave the forest, and around a bend, I am welcomed by a rainbow stretched across a field illuminated bright green by sudden sun. Later, a lazy herd of elk passes slowly in front of me, crossing the highway with the nonchalance that their imposing bulk allows. These are the things that feed my soul.

I am closer to Oregon now, and a brilliant beachside sunset presents itself north of the Klamath River when 101 drops to the sea. It's so rare in its stunning beauty that it removes breath from my lungs. I am beckoned off the highway for a photograph, and a jolt of bracing wind and the sound of waves refresh me.

The day wanes into twilight as I drive, and when I reach Gold Beach, it is already dark. Lights twinkle on the wide mouth of the Rogue River, which empties there into the sea. I enter my motel room ready for rest, thinking about tomorrow's route and what I'll find along the way.