You Capture--Postcards from Paradise

Okay, so I'm pretty sure that I live in paradise. After the hot flash that was the early part of our week, the heat broke late Wednesday afternoon and by evening, the air was crisp and cool and essentially all garden of Eden-y for us to enjoy. We slept with the windows open and the covers actually over us instead of tossed in an angry pile of "its too hot!" at the foot of the bed, and woke up on Thursday morning to a thick marine layer (read: fog) and 60 degree temperatures.

Which really wouldn't be your typical "perfect" August weather, except that the previous three days had felt like the gods were torturing us and using the sun as an interrogation lamp. Let me take a minute here to admit that I'm a big giant wimp when it comes to weather. Who am I to complain about 3 days of 100+ weather?!! Hello! I just endured TWO summers (read: May-October) in LA where the average temperature hovers around the 100 degree mark. I'm not sure when I became such a weather wuss. But I am. And I fully accept the fact that I will complain when it's too hot, too cold, is too cloudy or has rained for too long, even though in general, I like heat, cold, rain and clouds. I do think we've found as close to paradise as we're going to in terms of weather, living here in Nor Cal; but I reserve the right to bitch at every instance where it is not 75 and sunny, with a nice breeze.

And go figure--that's exactly what yesterday ended up being. But before it was sunny and warm, we packed ourselves up and headed back to Santa Cruz, a place I am quickly starting to feel very warm & fuzzy about, for a day with our friends.

We set up camp next to a couple pieces of driftwood. The kids climbed on them & as we ended up shedding layers due to heat or rogue wave attacks, they made a nice drying rack.

The sea cliffs on the west coast are absolutely amazing

We started out in coats, long pants and sweat shirts.

lots of out-running waves...

...and waiting to see the seals poke their heads up in the surf....

then we took a walk to the cliffs and went past these GINORMOUS beach grasses.

Seriously, do you see my kid towards the lower right corner?

This tree? Blew my mind. Look at its roots holding on to the cliff.

The beach we went to, New Brighton beach, actually used to be called China Beach and was home to a fishing village of Chinese immigrants who made houses of tin and other scrap metals, living right on the beach and selling their fish in town. This lasted until the early '20's when anti-Chinese sentiment forced the fishing families to abandon the beach (what a shock! Americans?! Intolerant of immigrants?! Never.) So I thought it was poignant to find a young Asian man amidst the fog of the morning, fishing on the beach where perhaps his great-grandfather made a living in the early part of the last century. That's perhaps too quaint, but it made me happy to see him there.

Then the sun came out...

And there was much rejoicing...

sandpipers

My friend and her daughter, beautiful baby Z, got in some serious beach snuggles while the bigger kids jumped the tiny waves lapping the shore.

and Ethan impressed us with his drift wood surfing skillz.

I know I joked yesterday in my blog title about the beach being a "cure" for what ails you, but really--I think there's something to it.