This travel blog update is written as much for me as it is for you, dear readers. I am back in my favorite place on planet earth–Mendocino, California. My emotions are vacillating between nostalgia, joy, melancholy, astonishment, and a twinge of longing.. [Warning: I am embedding a lot of photos (and some emotion) into this post.]
Mendo has long been special to me, as for 18 years John and I forayed to Mendocino for a long weekend each September, where we would spend 3 nights, thrilled to park the car upon arriving without having to move it again until it was time to leave. I had fantasized about retiring to this marvelous little community on the bluffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean, for all of those 18 years. [Even if we could have afforded to move to this part of the world, which we could not have, John being ever-pragmatic continually reminded me of the lack of ground water in this area. Indeed, on past visits the bed & breakfast inns have had to truck water in for their guests just to keep the inns running! This never deterred me however, I really really wanted to retire in Mendocino.] My heart belongs to Mendocino!
We have been back 3 times since moving to the Midwest, although this is the first time we’ve camped in the area, having stayed in delightful bed & breakfast inns for all previous trips here.
Surely I am not the only person who feels … insignificant, uplifted, overwhelmed, and awed by the Pacific Ocean. As the waves incessantly surge onto the rugged cliffs hugging the shoreline, I feel both primordial thrill and dread, simultaneously. To be clear, it is the shoreline of the Northern California coast for which I have such a deep affinity — don’t take this wrong — San Diego and Santa Barbara are nice and all, but those beaches lack the drama of frothy, relentless waves breaking against craggy cliffs.
The cliffs of Mendo are so very special to me, and have been since John and I began our ritual long weekend visits to this captivating hamlet. I have walked these bluffs and cliffs on many a morning over the years, able to scamper to the tide pools if we happened to be there for a low tide. We were fortunate over these past 4 days to have had morning low tides allowing us to explore the miracle of ocean life.
Mindful attentiveness to the vast life occurring in a tide pool is a truly wondrous gift. There is so much to observe if a person is willing to scramble to the pools, to squat low for best viewing, and to simply take the time to quietly watch the secret world beyond.
Mendocino has it all: nature, romance, divine food, bike rides, and my favorite natural foods co-op market of all times. Everything in town is walking distance. As Mendo is accessible only via Highway 1, and a good distance from Highway 101 or any larger road, it feels like a sleepy little town. Still. After all of these years, blessedly. A major thoroughfare nearby would impact the artsy, hippie feel of the place. So, even though every parking space was taken on the few intersecting roads, and all of the inns posted “full” signs, Mendo still felt charming and cozy.
We both adore Oystercatchers with their pink legs, and orange beaks and eyes. Their call to one another is haunting and lovely.
How interesting it was to be back in this beloved place, immersed in natural wonder and artsy hamlet charm. For a moment, I allowed myself to revive my long-time fantasy of moving to Mendo; alas, there is no more ground water today that there was 13 years ago before we moved to Evansville and I am certain that real estate is more expensive now than it was then. I felt … wistful, yet I eventually accepted reality, giving myself permission to be grateful for where I was in the moment.
I am typing over a few days, again, due to sporadic access to wifi and because we are on the go each day! I wanted to add just a bit more however, to include this morning’s magical time at the tide pools of Bruhel Point, slightly north of where we are camping. Some people say that these tide pools are the richest and most luscious of any on the California coast. They certainly are magnificent.
Low tide was at 8 AM, so of course we arrived Bruhel Point at 7. The sun had not yet risen high enough to illuminate the undulating waves, so for John the morning photography was a delight. See for yourself:
