This is the blessing we received today.

We set out west this morning for some wine tastings and a happily anticipated family wedding celebration in Santa Barbara. Homer, our trusty motor home is our transport and lodging.

We do our time on I-80 and turn south on I-5 towards our initial stop in Paso Robles when one of our tires succumbs to the plethora of serious potholes on the road and we have… tread separation.

This equipment failure is not new to us, but here is how today was different: Bob knew we were in need of a tire change so we travelled slowly along until we could get to a gas station. Voila! Upon arrival at our first available service point we pull up to the pump and Bob spots a highway patrolman parked at the adjoining island.  Bob approaches and says, “Just the man I have been looking for.” And the patrolman says, “What did I do wrong?” (Already, you have to love this guy for his humble wit. And his demeanor totally made it work.) Bob explained our plight and asked about a tire store. The patrolman got us information on the nearest place –  Billingsly Automotive – complete with address and phone number.

We s-l-o-w-l-y head on down the road and shortly thereafter are aggressively flagged down by a cowboy-hat wearing gentleman (literally standing in the middle of a traffic lane) who is wanting to make us aware of our tire problem. And while this roadside exchange is going on another driver stops and asks if we know that one of our tires is failing.

And THIS IS THE MOMENT. We are in jeopardy and an array of totally unrelated souls reached out on our behalf. It was so personal: being the beneficiary of non-obligated kindness.

And yet – there is more. The head dude, Pat at the tire store we have been directed to, has tires to fit and arranges to do the replacement as soon as we arrive. He will also have a matching pair of tires ready for Homer’s other side before we make our way back up the coast and home to Reno. He has gone the extra mile to make things work for us. (And he is funny and has a sly drollness that sings of familiarity.)

How to explain this? I won’t try. I am caught up in the deliciousness of the goodness that surrounds us. Namaste.

The inner view of our fated tired: broken chords. Now  mended in human accord.