Wave to a gardener who went exploring
Redwoods are majestic, and it’s a good thing we went there instead of the mountains. Our intended destination in the Sierras was near the site of the latest out-of-control fire.
There is often a brown cloud overhead here. In fact, it was bad enough my personal pilot was not able to take me on a flight down the coast, and for the rest of the week we had a brown reminder overhead that uncontrolled fires are the new norm.
But life goes on, so we went to Goat Beach. Beaches up here are usually windy and the water is cold. The wind over the ocean keeps smoky air away but pushes in the fog. Pelicans sail by in formation as though they have military training.
Walking along the shoreline is totally tactile – sand between your toes, sea gulls shrieking, waves pounding and salt air infuses the sea breeze.
Waves never sleep, and occasionally one will sneak up another twenty feet, and the gardener on vacation stayed just out of reach except for one. My previously dry jeans were witness that one rogue wave is all it takes.
After a while, it was time to eat, so it was back to the redwoods. You know who are good cooks? My two sons. You know how they got that way? My two daughters-in-law who casually chat about the nuances of quinoa, nutmeg and dupuy lentils while I’m absorbed by the tales the redwoods tell. It’s difficult to take a photo of a redwood grove that does them justice, but we ate well in their majestic shade.
And then the five-year-old ninja drenched his clothes saving the Water Queen from the waterfall and the eight-year-old studied YouTube videos for how to solve Rubik’s cube in record time. The four-year old wielded his light saber in our defense, and the one-year-old calmly watched like all-knowing Baby Yoda.
The temperature in the redwoods was perfect, so we all played music. I was the one rocking the jar of peppercorns. I’ve always wanted to be lead peppercorn.
We drove from one redwood grove to another for a hike. The four-year old lightning dragon flashed through the redwoods chased by the five-year old phantom ninja, both disappearing into a fairy ring. Upon their reemergence, I found myself listening to two simultaneous fearless fantasies about wizards, invisibility and flying through the redwoods which reminded me of what a humdrum existence I lead.
Regarding shopping, one entire aisle in the Sebastopol Whole Foods is wine which means wine is moving up in the food pyramid. In every market, there are dozens of choices for chocolate bars including paleo vegan or turmeric, but you can also find dozens of apple varieties. My sons attended an elementary school named for an apple. Sad to say, one by one apple orchards have been replaced by vineyards.
The reason for the vacation was family and friends, and it is humbling when everywhere I went I was treated like I’m special. I went to a daughter-in-law’s family gathering and again was treated royally. As is typical on a Sonoma County evening in August, I was shivering. We ate homemade pizzas cooked in a wood-fired pizza oven and enjoyed local beers and wines. Special. Shivering.
But soon enough it was time to go home. The gardener on vacation took another long hike at SFO because he was lost. Who would have guessed my domestic flight would leave from the international terminal! My phone claimed I walked 2.1 miles. To me it felt more like 1.7, but who’s counting. Nevertheless, I found my way to Denver, then to Tulsa and even to my car in the economy lot. All that was left was a short three-hour drive back to my happy home.
Now that’s over, I’m ready for another vacation.