Monday, January 24, 2011

Where I'm Most at Home

January in the Monterrey Bay

Me and my mom

A fun reading spot

My mom's garden

My favorite water color painting is one my mom did when I was a child. A humble seaside cottage with hanging baskets of red nasturtiums. Little footprints lead the way from the front door to a secret beach hiding between the sand dunes. A dark line of blue becoming lighter at a shore of breaking waves. This, I believe, is where her soul lives. Growing up in this area one can never forget the smells and the feel of the air. There's truth in what the ocean reveals. With each wave that soaks the sands and pulls away the debris of life it leaves behind only what is. Here you can just be. We've picnicked on many beaches between Half Moon Bay and Big Sur and camped on the bluffs overlooking jagged coast line. We've ridden the roller coasters in Santa Cruz and fished from the wharfs above the barking seals. I know every little road that winds through the Santa Cruz mountains and how to get from the hot sandy beaches to the cool, damp of the redwoods. This is where I connect to my happiest memories. Now I walk down the beach barefoot with my own children, collecting seashells, each one a magical find. We are together but alone in our thoughts. The surfers ride the waves, the seals swim past and, coming up from the beach, my mom is waiting with iced tea and hot clam chowder. What a beautiful January day.

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