detour: again, the sea

I live in the foothills. And travel to the mountains often. And ride in the valley. But the sea always calls me. So many of my trips I feel like I don't have a choice where to go: the ocean, sea, the shore, by whatever name, I am going.

Shamus (my parent's dog) is holiday tolerant

It was no different this time. A difficult few months of work, the busy holiday season, all make sea and sand and waves and redwoods beckon. Even if it was cold and foggy…to me that IS the sea. No sunny southern California beaches with soft sand, or sunrises on the east coast, or even lovely quiet tropical beaches. I want waves and wind and brutal nature and a feeling like I don't really matter (because honestly, to this shore, we don't.)

raven watches ominous skies

tiny tidepool dweller

ogre face rock!

Ravens watched over as we walked the cliffs, and later hiked down to uncovered tide pools. The sky threatened (it was just the fog rolling in), but whether it was the threat of rain, or the wind or cold, we had the whole area to ourselves.

path to secrets

under ferns are generations more

follow the mushroom path…magical

orange mushrooms?! I don't dare…

redwood sorrel

ferns alight

Later the coastal woods where I uncovered treasures of mushroom and fern, and even saw the sun for a moment! I counted more than nine varieties of mushroom, and that was just what I could see from a few miles of simple trail. What tiny marvels.

sign leaned on this tree for years, on a path to nowhere

historic building and encroaching floodwaters

But always, back to the beach. Where river flooding threatened an historic house, morning spiderwebs hugged the ground, and our shadows stretched before us.

good morning spider

long shadows on a clear morning

Before long we were home again, to all those comforts and familiarity. But the coming storm feels a bit like wind off the sea, and the river below sounds like the constant waves. It is always within me.

shell and steel, who survives the sea?

uneventful

Right now, we're about as exciting as creeping moss.

creeping moss is creepy

New Years Day ride

The first of the year was sunny, and allowed for a nice, uneventful ride (always the goal for New Year!). Then it decided to give us a months worth of rain in two days. So it got very soggy.

Then the fog came in (on little cat feet) and sat in the valley. Cold and clinging, the fog ride was damp and made everything quiet, except for the soft snorting of Major as we headed out. Two weeks off may have been too much even for a pastured horse, but he has learned to mostly behave himself, and we came home, uneventfully.

cookies?

always better share with friends

So Major and I go hiking after work (hills are much harder from the ground). And he eats grass and I watch the deer graze. The tracking app I use sent me my 2017 statistics, but even that wasn't motivating enough to make any plans. I should probably prune the last of my roses, and clean my tack, and...

we climbed enough to be in the stratosphere!

should prune, but so pretty after rain

Sorry, I got distracted by this good book, cup of tea, and comfy chair (or some football games, great fun lately). There will be time for some more adventures later. Until then, I'll savor the uneventful (because it always changes…)

muddy face looking for change