We’re only about a 35 minute drive from the beach and sometimes I think that not going every single day, even just for a short visit, is a sign that I am ungrateful, spoiled, and just plain stupid. I will admit that over the past 27 years I’ve lived here, there have been stretches where I didn’t go to the ocean, maybe one of them even lasted a year. Even though it’s not far, there is a whole mountain between here and there that makes it seem more distant, if that makes any sense. These days I’m busier than I have ever been, but for me I find that the busier I am the more vital it is for me to pack in some restorative things in my everyday life, too. I mean, I’m already spun from the busy; what’s one more thing? Busy usually brings out a little creativity, a desire to cook, the actual planning and completing of (!) projects. When I have too much time on my hands, I don’t get anything done. I suppose if I want that to change about me then I shouldn’t put it out there as how things are, but I don’t envision being not busy again for a long while so maybe it doesn’t matter.
On Sunday night, after I came home from yoga class and showered and grabbed a few handfuls of pistachios, some chips and salsa, and a peach for supper, John and I took Willow to the beach to watch the sun go down. Now, though we do live on the WEST coast, the direction in the sky where the sun sets, most of the beaches around here don’t really provide for direct sunset viewing. Usually, if you are facing the water (and if you are me), the sun will go down somewhere over your right shoulder. The coast doesn’t really always face west. (Gwendolyn will probably have a list of beaches that do face west for me?)
Here’s a shot of the faintly pink and orange sky over the lovely pastel town of Capitola:
My only complaint about Capitola is that everything is locked up tight really early at night. We left the beach after dark because Willow made an ant hill out of sand and really, really, REALLY didn’t want to leave it there because WHO would take care of her ants and what if some kids decided to wreck it (Like I just did to that other sand thing that another kid left on the beach, she cried, not seeing the irony. (That is irony, right? My english major days are long over with.)). There was not a single place open to get hot chocolate (or a margarita) or take Willow to pee before the ride home.
But who needs all that, when there are FREE briquettes to be found in the sand?
I love to stand on the beach, even though the ocean terrifies me almost as much as it relaxes me. Maybe it’s those two extremes all at once that make it so appealing. It must be a little subconsciously reassuring to stand there, mildly panicked that the whole.entire.ocean. could just reach up and swallow me in a heartbeat if it wanted to, but to fully enjoy each second that it didn’t. Each second just standing there.
I need to stop that or people are going to make fun of me.
But, doesn’t the ocean seem like an exotic and beautiful wild animal? Even though it’s dangerous, we’re drawn by it’s hypnotic beauty and just want to be near it.
After the sun was long past set, we finally convinced Willow to come home with us. But we had to promise that we’d be back for a longer visit really soon.