Here I am making a tree shrine for Bob Mitchell  just hours after I heard of his death.   I copied photos of every person I had ever met at his pool side desert resort of Jacumba.  Slid the images into baggies and tied them to the tree with green ribbons.  Like the Tree of Life this one is symbolic - blowing in the constant wind - all of us waving goodbye.  Bob had the gift of gathering in the tribes, people from all over.  Some on motorbikes, some in planes.  Some from LA, some from Arizona.  Some as far away as Washington and England.  If an event was going down it was not to be missed.   Blissful days in bathing suits, tequila poured liberally.  And always the voice of Bob in the background yarning out his stories.  I swear that man must have been 480 for all the things he had done.  

Martin was just saying today that the town is just a dirt bowl without Bob.  And Baze too!  There's a shrine for him out there too.  Two larger than life men who left an obvious void in their wake.  I for one don't like it when the fun runs out.  My Dad always said just to be grateful for those wonderful experiences and on top of that Paul of France says we can't live in the past because that will deny us a beautiful future.  I'm hoping the best is yet to come for every dang one of us.