This is Abbott Square, the downtown gathering space in Santa Cruz. My son Zach and I start our morning here a couple days a week before he goes to his job, because our favorite coffee shop, Cat and Cloud, has a location there. I get my morning coffee and Zach gets a croissant. What you see here is the aftermath of Zach sharing some of his croissant with the small birds which frequent the Square. Zach loves to feed animals; he should have been a farmer.
What you don’t see in this picture are the gulls sitting on top of the building in the upper right of the photo, glaring down at these tiny birds, contemplating their options.
Although, it is less about the coffee than it used to be.
I enjoy the many different flavors a skilled roaster and brewer can produce in a cup of coffee, but the best part of the coffee ritual for me has become the community of people enjoying their coffee together in a good coffee shop.
I’ve got a good coffee shop, one where the other guests are often friendly, thoughtful people; Santa Cruz invites a certain type of creative and emotional generosity of expression (even if it is considerably sanded down from what it used to be, according to the long-timers), and it’s pretty easy to get into an interesting conversation with someone at my neighborhood cafe. The crew is an essential component in that experience too, as they set the tone with warmth, kindness and curiosity. All of it adds up to a Third Place.
A good Third Place gives you the freedom to be yourself. It lets you try out parts of your mind and spirit that you might not feel safe to elsewhere. It lets you leave a mark, or just bask in the comforting acceptance of others. A good Third Place is harder to find than it should be, and too many of us don’t actually have one in our lives. I do, and when I cannot be there I feel the effects, quickly. A good Third Place is good for your spirit, both for what it gives you and what it allows you to give others.
And that is why coffee is important in my life today.
I just liked the way the flowers on this reed wound their way up the stalk. Also, most of the stalks in the background have flowers that have dried up already. This one appears to be a late bloomer.
I love living in California, but one thing I miss about the Midwest is regularly occurring rainstorms. I grew up with them, and somewhere along the way they became comforting. Only having rain in the winter still feels weird to me.
So today it was weird, but also pleasant, to be caught in a rain storm during a walk.
The rain stopped before the walk ended, and my shirt dried before I finished my coffee.
Brandon Woosley 