Ghost Town Before Christmas

In this episode, Ghost Town Before Christmas . . .

According to the headlines, the world was jammed solid. Freeways locked. Airports bursting. Humanity is on the move in what the news helpfully labeled a Holiday Travel Apocalypse.

So at 9:00 Sunday morning, we rolled out on our bikes expecting chaos.

Instead, we found… Nothing.

The San Luis Rey bike path was empty, as if we’d pedaled through a rip in the fabric of time. The air had that rare late-December clarity—cool, clean, almost polished. Trees along the path dropped gold and amber leaves that skittered across the pavement like small, polite ghosts. The sun wasn’t loud or demanding—just warm enough to make the world feel calm and contained—a private trail of asphalt and light.

By the time we reached Oceanside Harbor, the travel warnings felt almost absurd. While the news promised mayhem, the harbor delivered stillness. The water rippled, reflecting the sun. The Pier stood against a deep sapphire sky brushed with thin, quiet clouds. No crowds. No shouting. Just the soft creak of boats and a town that hadn’t gotten the memo; it was supposed to be busy.

I don’t know where everyone went, but I was grateful for their absence. While the rest of the world was wrestling carry-on bags into overhead bins of destiny, our coastline had gone silent. The roads were so still I could hear my own pulse. For a moment, I wasn’t just cycling—I was curating an empty world.

Of course, the spell eventually broke.

Taking an unusual route home through Carlsbad, I finally found the missing population. They hadn’t vanished; they’d relocated. As I crested the hill near the outlet malls and Costco, the quiet dissolved into a familiar hum of holiday urgency—parking lots packed tight with chrome and brake lights, shoppers orbiting for bargains and spaces.

Just a few miles apart: two entirely different worlds.

While everyone else was hunting for deals, I had already found the only thing worth keeping this season—the quiet, golden center of the storm.

I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask questions, enjoy the ride — and Merry Christmas!🎄

Comments

Don Hanley said…

You found more than the quiet - you found PEACE.

December 22, 2025 at 10:14 AM

Anonymous said…

Merry Christmas!

December 22, 2025 at 10:37 AM

A Mother’s Day Reflection

With Mother’s Day here and the world bustling with cards, brunches, and busy schedules, I find myself reflecting on something a bit simpler: taking a moment to remember the person who helped shape my earliest sense of home. Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom. We arrived in Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition whose enormity I only fully appreciate now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped into Midwestern life with remarkable courage. Her smile could warm the coldest Illinois morning, and her hugs lingered long after she let go—quiet reminders that you were deeply loved. Born February 16, 1934, the third of four children, she grew up in Nazi-occupied La Rochelle. As kids, we listened wide-eyed to stories of soldiers patrolling her streets and fear shadowing everyday life. Yet she carried none of that darkness forward. What endured was resilience and an unwavering devotion to family—qualities she carried across the Atlantic and planted firmly in C...

Time Travel, Roving Mics, and Muscle Memory

In this episode, the 2026 Sinkankas Symposium. Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t arrive in a DeLorean. No flux capacitor, no dramatic lightning strike—just a Saturday parking pass and a name badge. And yet, somewhere between the rotunda doors and the first handshake, it happened anyway. This past Saturday, April 25th, I was transported—effortlessly and completely—back in time at the 20th Annual Sinkankas Symposium on the GIA campus in Carlsbad. Walking into that magnificent main campus rotunda early with my colleagues, Paul Mattlin and Glenn Wargo, felt like wrapping myself in a familiar, gem-encrusted blanket. It was less a building, more a family living room where nobody ever really forgets your name. The halls were quiet (a rare and beautiful thing), and the soft echo of our footsteps on the polished floors sounded exactly as I remembered it. For a moment, it wasn’t 2026—it was April 1997, my first time walking onto the beautiful, brand-new GIA campus as Director of Alumni. Som...

Freedom 7 - 65th Anniversary

Podcast - Freedom 7; 65th Anniversary . "Man must rise above the Earth - to the top of the atmosphere and beyond - for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives." - Socrates, 500 B.C. May 5, 2026, marks the 65th anniversary of Freedom 7's launch. Commander Alan B. Shepard, Jr. became the first American in space. A 15-minute sub-orbital flight, a day for the history books; the entire world was watching. NASA and the world had witnessed many trial runs explode violently on the launch pad. The space program was in its infancy. Unlike today, there were far too many unknowns. This prompted me to pull out one of my favorite books from my office library, Light This Candle , by Neal Thompson, copyright 2004. Light This Candle is a biography of Alan Shepard, Jr., you won't be able to put down. It's - "Story-telling at its best . . . every page is alive," says David Hartman, U.S Naval Institute. In the opening pages, you read endorsements fr...

Ode To Gemology

For over 80 years, students of gemology have struggled with spectrums, bewildered by birefringence, and simply plagued by pleochroism. The following sonnet is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face, a glow to your heart, and a simple reminder that students of life and gemology rediscover nature's gifts every day. Ode to Gemology , by a GIA on-campus student. Dispersion, fire, adventurescence. Orient, sheen, or iridescence. Refractive index, high or low. The luster should indicate that, you know. Polarization, double or single. What to do now, they intermingle. Pleochroic colors you really should see. Was that only two, or actually three? Birefringence should help you a lot. Use your polarizer and watch the spot. Now, did it jump most on low or high? Sure, you can get it if you really try! Your liquids should be an aid, I think. Does it float, suspend, or slowly sink? Just use your imagination now. (He doesn't see me wiping my brow.) Solid inclusions or only bubbles? Huh, th...

On The Fly

Search This Blog