Behind the ridge ahead, on this green island, the shining sea. The Pacific.
Where Bolinas Bay meets the Pacific.
Standing in the shallows, the glassy layers decorated with foam swirls raced towards me, enveloped me up to my knees, passed me, and then pulled back from under me - sucking the sand from under my feet. As if pulling me towards itself at a great speed. Almost impossible to keep standing upright. A squeal of joy! Exhilarating and slightly scary. That was at Dillons Bay where Tomales Bay meets the Pacific. As calm as a millpond compared with what it would normally be like apparently. What would it have been like in the storms?
The the waves at North Beach above Point Reyes. The Pacific. Nothing until you get to Japan….. There was no standing in the shallows there — however “calm”. A steep shelf. Beware the undertow!
We were too early to see pods of whales on their journeys. But I could see where they would pass. An undulating rhythm of diving, surfacing, diving….