how i love being alone on the headlands at dawn. after it’s rained. little globes of water, each a tiny world, hanging on the branches and blades.
our star hasn’t yet made its way over the rim of this side of the world. it’s hanging there just below the tree line.
no one is here, so if i want to clap my hands together or do a jig I can.
the land and sea are mine!
the cold air and water vapor thrill me. it’s about 38 degrees outside and i’m puttering along the edge. winding my way around the headlands. filling my lungs with salty air.
on the way back to the cottage i turned back to say “see you soon,” and saw a rainbow.
after the disappointment of the dreadful street lights filling the town of fort bragg at night with their cold white light, i went on a reconnaissance mission down country lanes and found some good alternatives to town living. there are small clusters of houses in clearings and meadows. when i get settled into moss cottage 2, northern california edition, i would like to see at least a peek of other houses. maybe someone will need me. maybe i will need them. for something.
by the time i leave los angeles in 5 years or so i’ll be leaving behind my good neighbor, larry the handyman and his 2 sisters on one side of me, and raman and vivian on the other, and susan across the street. we will have been living side by side for 20 years! i’ll need someone to occasionally shoot the breeze with. unless you’re planning to relocate here, i’ll know no one. that doesn’t worry me as much as it probably should.
today’s sunrise ramble
freezing cold! ice on my windshield!
everything was covered in delicate silver frost.
i saw a turkey vulture and 3 oystercatchers with very fine orange beaks.
yesterday i saw 2 separate flocks (?) of wild turkeys!
sundown at russian gulch state park
blowholes, wave tunnels, and natural bridges, oh my!
the blowhole here is surrounded by a wooden fence. if you study the photo below you’ll see it. over thousands of years the waves charging through the tunnels and erupting upwards caused the blowhole to form. this one is considered decadent, meaning the water no longer explodes up over the top of the lip of the hole.
when you’re walking on the edge of the headlands to get to the fence you can’t help but hope the wave tunnels beneath your feet (that you can’t see) don’t choose that second to collapse.
when you look over the edge of the blowhole at low tide there’s a tiny black sand beach! at high tide all you see is wild churning water that occasionally sprays upward.
i saw the blowhole twice – high tide and low tide. apparently i was too excited to take a photo because i can’t seem to find one anywhere! you’ll just have to go see it for yourself.
today at the mendocino botanical gardens i stood at the edge of the headland path feeling the power and magnetic pull of this violent magnificent ocean. to be able to walk here daily, to study the tides, the animals and birds, plants, shells, stones, grass…forever. now that would be something.
my search hasn’t ended, but mendocino county gets high marks.
it’s back to LA mañana. i’m not ready, but then i never am. luckily for me i’m off until january 8th!
see you soon, friends. xo