Scenes from our California trip, August 2013

Our California trip started in the south, were we enjoyed a weekend at Newport Beach and nearby Corona Del Mar.

Our California trip started in the south, were we enjoyed a weekend at Newport Beach and nearby Corona Del Mar.

I spent most of our 15-day California trip working, visiting 10 Digital First newsrooms and participating in a weekend conference. But I still found some time to enjoy the Golden State, first in the south and then in the north.

While we enjoyed the scenic cliffs of Southern California, stick man had a rougher time.

While we enjoyed the scenic cliffs of Southern California, stick man had a rougher time.

Cal squirrel

My companion showed such delight at a ground squirrel eating from people’s hands that a man gave her some peanuts to feed the squirrel. Yeah, a sign nearby said not to do that.

We moved to Long Beach for a week of work at Digital First newsrooms in the Los Angeles area. Our hotel was near the retirement home of the Queen Mary. We had dinner on board one night, and enjoyed the full moon on our walk to the ship.

We moved to Long Beach for a week of work at Digital First newsrooms in the Los Angeles area. Our hotel was near the retirement home of the Queen Mary. We had dinner on board one night, and enjoyed the full moon on our walk to the ship.

The Queen Mary's companion as a docked museum is a Russian submarine.

The Queen Mary’s companion as a docked museum is a Russian submarine, the B-427 Scorpion.

Our weekend in Anaheim included an evening at Disneyland. You can read my companion's account of our visit to the Happiest Place on Earth.

Our weekend in Anaheim included an evening at Disneyland. You can read my companion’s account of our visit to the Happiest Place on Earth.

We moved to San Rafael, north of the Golden Gate Bridge, for the second week. My morning walks took me around a lovely pond that attracted ducks, geese and other waterfowl.

We moved to San Rafael, north of the Golden Gate Bridge, for the second week. My morning walks took me around a lovely pond that attracted ducks, geese, herons and other waterfowl.

We enjoyed a lovely walk along Richardson Bay, looking across San Francisco Bay at the city skyline.

We enjoyed a lovely walk along Richardson Bay, looking across San Francisco Bay at the city skyline.

We dined outdoors Friday evening at Sam's Anchor Cafe, looking out on the bay.

We dined outdoors Friday evening at Sam’s Anchor Cafe, looking out on the bay.

Imagination Park in San Anselmo pays tribute to Yoda and Harrison Ford, two of the most famous creations of local movie producer George Lucas.

Imagination Park in San Anselmo pays tribute to Yoda and Harrison Ford, two of the most famous creations of local movie producer George Lucas.

The drive to Point Reyes takes you through several ranches. We came through at milking time.

The drive to Point Reyes takes you through several ranches. We came through at milking time.

We visited Point Reyes in the fog and heard a ranger explain why it's often foggy.

We visited Point Reyes in the fog, hearing the foghorn every minute and listening to a ranger explain why it’s often foggy.

Our foggy visit to Point Reyes was beautiful. But it gave us appreciation for how fortunate we were in 2007 to see Point Reyes on a spectacularly clear day.

Our foggy visit to Point Reyes was beautiful. But it gave us appreciation for how fortunate we were in 2007 to see Point Reyes on a spectacularly clear day.

The spectacular coastal views from Point Reyes that we enjoyed six years ago were shrouded in fog on this visit.

The spectacular coastal views from Point Reyes that we enjoyed six years ago were shrouded in fog on this visit.

On our drive back from Drake Beach, where Sir Francis Drake landed the Golden Hind, we stopped several minutes to watch this elk, which seemed to be posing for us.

On our drive back from Drakes Beach, where Sir Francis Drake landed the Golden Hind, we stopped several minutes to watch this elk, which seemed to be posing for us.

 

 

 

 

 

Can a pragmatist remember how to dream?

On Sunday morning I took a quiz I found on Facebook. Yes, I know – they are often inaccurate, rarely insightful, and almost always inane. But I had a little time to burn before I Skyped with my granddaughters, and figured what the heck.

This quiz was designed to reveal what your political leanings say about you. I answered as honestly as I could, within the confines of the questions, but many of my answers didn’t fall neatly into any of the limited responses offered. The results returned said that I was a political centrist. (Something I’ve been trying to tell my more conservative relatives for years, but that’s another blog post.) It also said I am a rather hardheaded realist, egalitarian, and strongly pragmatic.

Not the stuff whimsy is made of. Continue reading

The Heartbeat of the Pacific

Monterey BeachI’m hugely distracted this morning.

Our hotel in Monterey is an older one. There’s nothing fancy about it. The room is clean and small, but comfortable in a way that covers all your needs as long as you keep them simple. I am thrilled to be staying here. Because it’s old, it was built before California outlawed building right on the beach. It’s a windy morning, and the waves are high. It looks like they’re rolling in directly under my room, along with the talented surfer or two.

I fell asleep last night listening to the rumble of the ocean, so loud and rhythmic it seemed to be an extra heartbeat in the room. When I woke up this morning, it was still there, making me smile before I even opened my eyes.

This morning, my companion is off for a visit at the Monterey Herald newsroom. Royal Calkins, the editor, kindly gave him a ride so that I could have the rental car to drive downtown to visit the aquarium or scoot down the coast to Carmel. But I just can’t tear myself away from my little room. I’ve been given a late checkout. I’ve promised myself I’ll work at the table in front of the window, enjoying the sight of the Pacific waves and the squeals of children running down the beach. I’ve left the door ajar, just enough to let the salt breeze in, while keeping the seagulls out. That should be enough, right? I should be able to crank out the many words in this luscious, deep blue setting.

But the lure is just too much. A dozen times now I’ve left my chair to go stand on the deck to just watch and listen. I’ve tried so many times to shoot pictures and videos, but each time I’m disappointed with the result. My little iPhone is inadaquate and my timing is bad. The waves are never as big as the one that rolled in just before my finger hit the shutter. The surfer I’ve watched ride wave after wave falls before he gets to the beach when my lens is on him. Even if I was a better photographer, it’s a fools errand. There’s no capturing this. However much I want to take it with me when I go, the ocean is not a domesticated thing. It won’t be taken to a little landlocked condo 3,000 miles away, no matter how many times I click away.

So the writing isn’t getting done. I have a project to work on for one son, some words to get down before I speak at my goddaughter’s wedding. There are blog posts to write and a manuscript to proof, The characters in my new novel are nagging for attention. It all sits neglected on a laptop that has gone to sleep.

The lure of the Pacific is just too strong. Early this afternoon, my companion will return and we’ll head inland, out of its sight and out of its sound. So right now I have to have it while I can.

Everything else has to wait.

Worth The Trouble

My companion and the giant.

This trip to California has been a bit of a forced march. My companion has jammed 11 newsroom visits into 10 days. Except for the last two nights, we will won’t be in the same hotel twice. Before we return to San Francisco and our flight East, our rental car will have covered roughly 1,500 miles. It has been a marathon of check ins and check outs, while trying (with varying degrees of success) to keep track of our belongings.

We are both hardy travelers, but by the time we hit the weekend, I was ready to ease up a bit. I was tempted to suggest we take just one day to make the drive a short one and veg out by some pool. Better yet, maybe we could find a nice winery in which to pass a Saturday afternoon.

But those of you who know my companion, know he can be single-minded. He’d never seen the giant redwoods and I knew he wouldn’t give them up without a fight. Besides, I’d never seen them either. If we got up early enough on Saturday, we could get to Redwood National Park and spend some time before starting the 400+ mile drive down the coast to our next stop. When I climbed into the car, it was more with an attitude of resignation than anticipation. The phrase “good solider,” came to mind. Let’s take in those big-assed trees and be on our way!

But when my companion is right, he certainly is right. I had no idea of the treasure I’d find in that forest. It is acres upon acres of stunning life, so rich and full and strong it takes your breath away. Looking up at the tree tops gives you the dizzy feeling you are falling through space. Circle around the massive trunks, and you are overwhelmed with their grandeur. The whole forest seems to sigh with natural sound from the flittering birds to the gentle sweep of a breeze that can be heard, but cannot reach you. Elk, bears and even some mountain lions make the park their home, and although we didn’t see any that morning, there is no doubt they are there. Their life cycles, as ours, are borne witness to by those stately, giant sentinels, Those trees have seen hundreds of years of life pass beneath them, and they will live to see hundreds more.

Even with life vibrating all around us, there was a remarkable peacefulness in the redwoods. It’s like they were created to refresh the spirit. No matter how weary, when you stand among the giants time stops and everything that weighs you down is dwarfed to insignificance. You will be renewed. It is a place where you will rediscover your cornerstones and reconnect to your deepest feelings. It’s a place where your companion of so many years takes your face between his hands and whispers, “I want you with me, always.” And when he kisses you, it’s like it was the first time.

What a fool I’d been, to think it was too much trouble to add the giant redwoods to our trip. And how privileged I was to see them. They are a gift, a special moment, a true treasure that fills your heart and makes it easier to keep moving when it’s time to get back on the road.

The Pacific and the redwoods: I felt tiny

The Pacific Ocean from a turnout along the Shoreline Highway

I spent the weekend feeling small. And it felt great.

In the song, “I Hope You Dance,” Lee Ann Womack sings, “I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean.” Well, Saturday, I stood beside the ocean. And then beside giant redwoods. And then drove down roads darkened by so many redwoods they blocked the sun at midday. Then I drove through mountains. Finally I looked down on the Pacific from atop cliffs. Sunday I was back beside the ocean. As I write this, waves thunder on the beach outside our hotel room.

I felt tiny and insignificant all weekend. And grateful.

Work brought me to Northern California last week, visiting Digital First Media newsrooms in seven different communities, ending Friday in Eureka on California’s northern coast. I resume the newsroom tour today in Monterey, nearly 400 miles south of Eureka. But we had the weekend to make our way down the Golden State’s shore. Continue reading