Since I've been back I find myself waking up every morning thinking, "If I were in California today, I'd _____". Some days I fill that blank with "... go to the Ventura Marina and write in an outdoor cafe," "... take a drive up the coast," or "... have lunch in Summerland."
Today, I'd go to the beach.
One of the more pleasant experiences I had during my trip was simply walking at the water's edge, then sitting in the sand. I never knew that I loved the cool, crunchy feel of sand sticking to the hems of my wet jeans. Of my feet and toes being crusty with sand drying and baking in the sun. I forgot about always having to dust off my feet before getting into my car. I forgot about the floorboard always having sand in it regardless of how much I brushed and dusted my feet. The things that I'd once considered to be hassles became delights. What I once cursed, I now relished.
|The 101 from the California Street overpass.|
"We've decided on a quiet little resort town this year," he said. "It's absolutely beautiful! You should vacation there sometime. It has everything: beautiful weather, stunning beaches, cafes, theatres, concerts. We can't wait."
"Where is this?" I asked.
"It's called Ventura."
|The face of bliss.|
I can tell you one thing though. The next time I'm walking on the beach with wet, sandy feet, I'll make a vow never to leave home again unless I have a return ticket clutched tightly in my hand.