A Change in Plans

4:00 p.m. Island Packers calls and tells us our Channel Islands adventure for tomorrow has been canceled due to weather.  High winds will make it impossible to land at Anacapa.  We ask for a refund and decide to redirect our Saturday adventure to Jalama Beach.

I’ve packed a picnic; a bottle of expensive red wine sits nestled in the bottom of the basket.  Heather’s beach chairs are tucked away in the trunk, and in the unlikely event that we get wet, I’ve brought along a brightly colored beach towel.

We wind our way along a fourteen-mile narrow ribbon of gray that dips and whirls and climbs, offering views of hills and valleys and canyons that whisper the words, “Stay. Look. Listen. Feel. Be.”

However, the signs along the road that borders these private lands say something altogether different. We drive on.

This is the type of road I dream about; the type of road I yearn for; the type of road that drove me out of the city and into the country to live. I would drive a day just to experience the beauty of this drive. this place. I feel it is spring, but know it is winter. It is impossible to breathe deeply enough; be here long enough.  Green permeates my senses. My eyes travel across the lush green grasses, caressing the rounded mountain tops that appear as soft as winter velvet. The lyrics green, green, it’s green they say… keeps running through my head. I want to sing out loud.

Jalama Beach

The nose of our car tops a rise; my green world turns blue and white and sand. Jalama.  Wildly beautiful. Beautifully wild. Remote.  Breathtaking. Stunning. Desolate. Jalama. 

The cloudless blue skies and warm winds have lured more than just us to the ocean’s edge. Searching for a place to park, we are forced to the far end of the expanse of black asphalt. A very good thing.  We open the trunk, divide the burden, and trek across the low dunes to the seaweed-strewn beach.  The crowds are far to our left and behind us in the dunes; we only have sandflies to deal with as we search for our imperfectly perfect spot to sit and be.

The Santa Anna winds, born in the desert, cresting the Santa Monica range, and then racing down the mountains to the Pacific, have caused hazardous surf conditions along much of the California coastline. We are here to witness the spectacle of nine to ten-foot seas. Waves crash. We can feel the thunder. Our tiny corner of the beach is unpopulated, and we have an unobstructed view of the foam and the surf and the surfers. 

“We might get wet…”

The tide is going out but living dangerously, we have placed our chairs on the very edge of the wet sand; we count twenty waves making sure the water will not reach our toes before uncorking the wine and unwrapping our food. It is a finger picnic; the Greek olives taste wonderful with the steak sandwiches on garlic baguettes with the arugula and tomatoes. A drizzle of olive oil from Ojai makes it perfection. Kettle chips add crunch, and salted caramel brownie-brittle tops it all off.

I sit, sipping my wine from the Santa Ynez Valley, thinking what a wonderful life, when I hear Michael say, “Look, all the waves are piling up on top of each other. We might get wet this time…” 

Surely not.

The waves do look like a snowball rolling downhill, gaining momentum as they crash and foam and spray toward us.  We move too slowly; the water gushes between our toes, past our feet, soaking the bottoms of our jeans seated in our borrowed beach chairs that are so very low to the ground–made even lower by our digging in. The damage done, we move to higher ground, taking a walk along the sandy shores to dry out.

The afternoon draws to a close way too quickly.  I envy the campers that can stay and linger, experiencing the magic deep into the night.

Nine years ago, when we discovered Jalama, we were alone on the beach, with the exception of flocks of seabirds and a single family, off to build one last sandcastle at day’s end. Later I took brush in hand and created a simple painting of joy and sand and surf and winter warmth and the memories it stirs.

1/27/2015 1:32:49 PM