We have clouds. It is in the mid-50’s. The air has a chill about it, the way fall mornings do. We have a wind from the north, 20 to 35 mph. Everything is blowing, even the tallest branches on the backyard oak trees. So many trees are bare now and more will drop their leaves in today’s wind. Winter is on the doorstep.

When I travel, I try not to have too many expectations. I have learned that serendipity is around the next corner. When I was in Marrakesh, I walked through the souks, some days taking lefts and other days rights. One day a small boy asked me if I wanted to eat. I said yes. He led me through a furniture and rug store to the back where there was a restaurant. It was open to a garden filled with flowers. The floor and building around the garden were white. It was a lovely stop. I had Moroccan food which always included a dish of chopped tomatoes to scoop with bread. I had an amazing meal. It was so unexpected behind a furniture store. Also in Marrakesh, I was wandering through the Mellah, the Jewish quarter, when a man stopped and asked if I wanted to see the synagogue, the Lazama Synagogue. When I got there, a caretaker unlocked the door so I could walk inside. I was so thankful I had said yes to the man who found me wandering.

I have eaten food which had no pedigree, meaning I didn’t know what I was eating. Sometimes I had to point at pictures that looked good. Potatoes were easy to recognize, not so much the meat. I just took a chance. I did eat reindeer in Finland and Guinea pig in Ecuador. In Iceland I ate Icelandic game. I did recognize some sort of fowl but the rest was unknown. I just ate. It was delicious. In Ghana, during my live-in with a Ghanaian family, I was served meat in a sort of stew into which I dipped a gelatinous mixture using my hands, no utensils provided. The meat was fatty and bony. It tasted fine, but I was curious as to the sort of meat. Come to find out, it was goat. T-zed, tuo zaffi, the most commonly eaten food in the far north where I was staying, was the gelatinous mixture. I was not a big fan though I did eat it often. It was because I loved all the stews served with it.

I plan a broad outline before I travel to places I have never been before, but those plans tend to be fluid. I leave plenty of room for the unexpected, for serendipity. That adds richness to my travels. It expands my palate. It fills my memory drawers. It is the best part of traveling.

Yesterday I had a concert at noon, but I had to leave early so I didn’t get time to write. We played at Hyannis Open Street outside in front of the Kennedy Museum. It was cold, especially when the wind blew. I had thought about staying home, cozy and warm, but I decided to go anyway. I dressed warmly, but my hands got cold. The crowd was a good one. They clapped and sang along at times. That made it all worth while.

Today is quite sunny but only 57°, the high for the day. My recognition of high has changed as the seasons have changed. This time of year I’ll take anything 55° and higher so today is a lovely day. Nala finds the sun. She has a sunny spot in the yard and lies stretched on grass where she naps. Dogs know how to be cozy and comfortable.

When I was a kid, the weather didn’t matter. I had to walk to school regardless. Part of my walk was by a field where the wind blasted across. Sometimes we walked backwards on the sidewalk by the field because the wind was so strong our eyes would water and our coats would flap. I could feel the chill. I could even feel the wind blowing up the arms of my coat. In the heaviest wind I thought I would fly.

The wind in Ghana came during the harmattan. It started in November or December when dusty, dry winds came down from the Sahara. The sun was vague, obscured by the dust. The air looked foggy. The days were hot while the nights were cold. The temperature could be 90’s or higher during the day and 50’s at night. I loved those nights. I’d lie snuggled under a scratchy wool blanket I had bought in the market. I still have it. The blanket is draped over a chair in my living room. The dryness wreaked havoc on my body. The heels of my feet dried and cracked so I had to walk on my tiptoes until my heels got hard. My lips too cracked. I remember my students in the mornings wore layers against the cold. I was just fine. I relished the chill.

The older I get the less I tolerate the cold, but I haven’t yet had to drag out my winter coat. It sits in the closet looking almost brand new. I have a wonderfully warm, thick sweater which is enough. I keep a blanket on my bed and am warmed by the heat of two dogs sleeping next to me or at my feet. During the day I wear my flannel pants, a t-shirt and a sweatshirt and either slipper or heavy socks on my feet. I stay wonderfully warm.

I have a filled dance card this week, all uke as usual. I have three concerts, my practice and my lesson. Today is a free day, but I have a few chores, and I want to try to bake some bread. I’m out of it, and I don’t want to get dressed and go out just for bread. I’m hoping for the best.