Why I'm Moving To Plumas County

A Change of Scenery, and Maybe Also a Soul

It’s simple, really. Something had to give.

I’ve just been laid off from Silicon Graphics. Again. That’s two layoffs too many from the same company, which feels like the universe whispering, Hey, maybe it’s time to go.

Meanwhile, my long-term relationship has quietly fizzled out—not with fireworks or slammed doors, just the slow fade of something that once mattered more than it does now.

And Santa Cruz? Beautiful, yes. But busier by the minute. These days I can hear the morning traffic sliding through my bedroom window, and that’s in Felton—a place once so quiet you could hear your own thoughts echo off the redwoods.

I love my house there. I really do. It’s held more good memories than I could count, if I were the sort of person who counted memories.

But.

(There’s always a “but.”)

There are ghosts in those walls too. A long, bitter battle with a contractor over major renovations left a sour taste I can’t quite scrub out. Add in a looming mortgage and a year of uncertain income, and the math starts looking pretty grim.

Then there was the stranger.

A chance encounter, the kind that feels like nothing until it isn’t. I bumped into someone—just a random conversation, one of those tossed-off exchanges that somehow sticks—and it turned out they were looking for a place to rent in the area.

One discussion led to another… and just like that, I was out. The decision that had been circling for months landed with a quiet thud.

It was the nudge I didn’t know I was waiting for.

So: Quincy.

Will it solve anything?

Will it quiet the noise, shake off the ghosts, reboot the system?

Honestly, I don’t know.

But sometimes the only way out is through a new front door.