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| The view from our bedroom. |
We made a wildly successful dash across California just north of Los Angeles. We emerged with Highway 101 at Ventura, CA. We made a brief stop for groceries and a walk around in Santa Barbara and we made it down the goat path road to the beach just before 3 P.M. We are parked in the highest row above the beach. The campground, packed yesterday, crawling with kids on scooters, guys sail surfing, and all sorts of beach time shenanigans going on about the place. I suspect most of these folks will leave sometime today after enjoying the President's day weekend. We have struck up a casual friendship with our neighbors on either side of us. One set is from the Sacramento area and the other couple live very near the border South of San Diego. The San Diegan, a former carrier pilot and an avid Trump fan, was quite fun to talk with last night, although my Bunny said she cringed a little. It's all good, but still quite out of character for us to hob nob with the neighbors. We allied about five miles on the beach this morning, and now I'm basking on the ridge listening to the crush of the waves, and you know what that means: Life is good, especially today.
Beach art.
Beach
Bird.
Playground art: Only in California.
Selfie of the day.
Falcon, smiling in his sleep. What's he know that we don't?
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