Do you every think about the hidden little places in your everyday life? They're always there, but it takes something to realize it. That something could be positive or negative; just something that jostles you out of your humdrum.

I had that experience today; something jostling me out of the same-old-same-old.

I drove east instead of south, like I usually drive when I go back home. I could see that the east street leads up to some nice houses, and beyond that, beautiful mountains.

But things where different that moment. Didn't really know what to do with myself. So I drove. I saw some lush greenery in this expensive neighborhood. Winding roads, too. The sun was nearing the end of its daily ritual, and casting a final glow on everything.

After some twists and turns, I stopped to enjoy the view. To send an SMS overture. To think.

I was at a part of the road where a sign read, "Paved Road Ends." I've seen on Google maps that the road unpaved is long and winding. Maybe some day I'll venture that way.

For now I turned back. Back west. But not back home.

The 125 south is new and interesting. I've been taking it whenever I can, since I'm tired of the same routes. Shame that the tolls add up.

I've always wondered what lay on Birch. It was the last exit before the bridge. So, I took it.

I'm glad I did. I saw the new homes. Many still unfinished. More importantly, I saw the hidden little places in life. They've always been there, just unnoticed. I saw beautiful vistas in all directions. The beauty of the new is a wonderful feeling. My wanderlust took me to a spot where I saw a coyote. It was walking down a road that was closed to traffic. Funny how we encroach on nature, parcel it off. But nature will always go, and do, what it wants.

I awkwardly tried to find a spot to photograph it. It was at an intersection that was 3/4 accessible. I think I got some nice shots. I'll check after they're done in Bridge.

A drove north. To the west I could see some structures. They almost looked familiar, but I didn't believe it. As I followed the road, I came to the intersection that I pass nearly every day. I was agog. I couldn't believe that less than a mile away I saw an amazing canyon, a lonely coyote, and proud trees. Just like that, I was "back to civilization." Just like that I was back to the humdrum. I didn't feel it was humdrum anymore. I realized I could find the special, hidden areas quite easily.

I drove back west on the road I usually take.

As I was south-bound on the 805, I saw the familiar high homes to the east of Palm.

I didn't want the adventure to end. I exited on Palm and drove east. At one time, after crossing the bridge, that was the end of the road. I remember being there at least 15 years ago, and thinking it was the end of the known world. We had a 4x4 truck in those days, and my dad enjoyed seeing what it could do in those rolling, empty hills.

The hills aren't empty anymore; they're choked with expensive houses, all vying for the ocean view. Only a few lucky (and expensive) abodes get that honor, and yet the whole community takes the name.

I drove east, and the elevation increased. Just a few years ago the road would end, and you'd have to turn back. You'd enjoy the view to the Pacific on the drive back. Now, the road continues. You see new homes, new streets. New adventures. At that moment my cell rang. It was whom I expected, eventually.

It's so complicated, we mused. Wondering aloud what spell it is that binds us together, we made a resolution.

I continued driving (illegally, I might add; CA has a no-phone while driving law), happy/relieved/optimistic. I described what I saw; the new sights.

Then suddenly, quite like before, the New merged into the Old. I came to an intersection of a highway I've been seeing a lot of lately; the intersection I would've seen if I had not exited on Birch. I continued south, a direction I never take. "I want to see what's over there," I told her.

At this point, honestly, I was thinking about her more than the road.

We spoke a bit more, then bid her adieu.

I took a small road to the left (west). Eventually the little road took me behind the homes that I see from the oft-traveled 905. I recalled, from my digital map wandering, that the little road eventually connects to familiar roads. I drove down that road, it reminded me of the treacherous roads I recall while traveling to see my Grandmother in Mexico. The road did, eventually, merge with familiar streets.

I was close to home by that time.

The sun was nearly setting, and I was near a wonderful vantage point to watch it.

I found a parking spot, and left the car for the first time since I began this spontaneous driving adventure. I set myself up, and took a few snapshots of that familiar star as it spun speedily out of sight for today.

That was a good time to reflect on things.

And to finish The Adventure.

For today.