The drive home from southern Mendocino County to Santa Cruz County required roughly five hours of attention to the road. We have been staying in the small village of Point Arena for a week. Our reserved time-share simply timed out. Staying in a quaint cottage allowed us a chance to wander up and down the coast and explore it with an intensity that we are not accustomed to. The row of cottages are two or three miles north of Point Arena, buried along the side of the highway in a grove of tall cypress trees. Each of the 50 or so cottages, lined along a dusty road, is actually a single-wide mobile home that has been decked out with a granite kitchen counter and propane fireplace. Cozy places filled with all the furnishings one might need for a longer stay.

This stretch of coast should only be visited by those who can keep themselves entertained by looking at wild nature. The few towns close by provide a souvenir shop or two, an eatery here and there, but mostly they are a mere quick stop for the summer tourist crowd. I saw much open space, fields of a yellowish-gray color, that spread downhill from mountain peaks to the abrupt sea cliff edges. The population is so sparse here, when compared with the amount of people I normally see in central California.

Point Arena appears as if it had been a proud and thriving town perhaps a hundred years ago, but is now fallen into disrepair. Half the town is boarded up, and in the doorways of the other half stand destitute-looking people that tend to scare away the curious who might otherwise want to stop and investigate. A wharf extends a short ways out to sea in the natural harbor. The boats, mostly for fishing, cannot rest safely here in the water, and are instead hauled out with a heavy winch that is fixed to the wharf. A coffee shop with a graying wooden deck overlooks the wharf, and here I would spend a few hours during the week just bathing in warm California sun.

The week was one of relaxation, with no greater purpose than to enjoy the innocent beauty of this quiet coast. I took a few long hikes, looked over the other small towns of Gualala, Manchester, Elk, and Mendocino, and found myself settled into a spell of contentment that is so unlike my routine back home. We had no internet service, neither wire nor wi fi, leaving us disconnected from the busy life of the web that is normally begging for our attention and allegiance. Very few of the local residents carry smart phones, and seem content to interact with the world the way it was before we all became tied up together.

My writing mind learned to let go of thoughts rather than stalk them down and capture them as if they were wild birds. I allowed my eyes to do more of the seeing for me. We even bought a second pair of binoculars. I hardly read from a book or listened to a song for a week. My pocket camera kept pretty busy most days. When I wander I usually bring home images from my whereabouts so that I may continue to explore what I have seen. A slide show of what I saw this past week might give a better account than I am able to do with words.

Slides!