Liz runs around the mounds of kelp at Limantour Beach.
Our day of spontaneity at Point Reyes National Seashore (and more)!
You think you're going to lounge around your apartment on Sunday morning, reading the paper with a cup of coffee in hand, and then leisurely stroll down to yoga followed by brunch. But then you feel that itch. You hear a bell ring from a distant land. It beckons to you: "come hither." Well, sometimes you have to scratch that itch and open the door when your favorite national seashore rings its bell. Or fog horn.
Okay, stop beating around the bush, you say! Alright, alright. Clearly,
Point Reyes called and we answered. After stashing the New York Times and 2 crazy creeks in a bag, Liz and I headed up the coast, blasting Lady Gaga along the way. I really liked meandering through the quiet, shady landscape of Samuel P. Taylor State Park while Gaga sang, "Don't want no paper gangster."
First, we stopped at Point Reyes Station. This town (is it even a town? a village? a hamlet? a street?) is a beacon for those on route to and from the seashore. There's just no sense in not stopping in. Who would want to resist sweets at the Bovine Bakery? Or the cheeses of Cowgirl Creamery? Or that barn-turned-general store that boasts a farmer's market, art gallery, coffee kiosk, yoga classes AND a nursery? No one, that's who!
Always the curious seekers, we tried something new with breakfast at the Pine Cone Diner. With its walls adorned with quaint plates and adorable mugs hanging from hooks, this was the perfect place to start our adventure. Even the bathroom was cute! Also, we knew the place was legit because the local firemen were eating breakfast there too.
Reading the front page while we wait for a table. My breakfast sandwich came with a side of hash browns that were as good as lattkes.
My dose of yoga for the day!
(I didn't go even though I wanted to. But I did enjoy the sign.)
On route to the seashore, we go out of focus through the Pine-lined roads. We don't think, "when will we get there?" because there becomes us as presently as here.
The beach is our resting place, for the day at least. Settled between the dunes, we watch as Sand Pipers play games with the waves and each other. I absorb each drop of inspiration, from the phases of sky to the patterns of water and sand. A beautiful place surrounds me, and continues to.
A leopard print ocean waves us goodbye, but the ebb and flow suggests we will be back.
