By Louie Ferrera
Point Reyes National Seashore, Valentine’s day 2023
The last raindrops drift away, they splatter our windshield with kisses of winter. Grey skies give way to blue, a patch here, a patch there. By the time we begin our hike the storm clouds have retreated to the south until above us the azure sky rings like a bell.
Suddenly, Great Blue Heron is there, silent sentry on the edge of a small pond just off the trail. This stately bird, tall and proud, is commanding a space among the aquatic plants and newly green grasses. It stands statue still, the feathers on its back overlapping until they come to a perfectly rounded end just above the tops of its impossibly long legs. The “blue” of this bird is really a seamless blend of light teal-to-grey and all points in between. A thin tuft of coal black feathers sweeps back from the top of its head like a 50’s Elvis hairstyle. Now the heron coils its neck and with a lightning strike it hits the surface of the pond, coming up with a small fish in its bill. I feel blessed to be given such a prolonged period to observe this bird. We continue on.
We surprise two grazing deer. I notice one of them has two small bumps above its eyes, the faint beginning of antlers. Deer are a common sight here but I never take that for granted. Deer are proud and graceful, gentle and wise.
Like perfect Christmas ornaments a pair of songbirds land atop a lupine bush. The western meadowlark’s breast feathers are streaked in the most lemony of colors, its song is a joyous greeting to all who hear it. The spotted towhee’s bright red eyes glow from its black head feathers. The rest of its body is a mulit-hued painting of rusty red and deep black peppered with white spots. A northern flicker is the next avian wonder to greet us. Its rounded head and long, pointy beak characteristic of the woodpecker family. The flicker has a black, heart shaped patch at its throat which gives way to a black spotted grey body. Rusty tail feathers rounds out this striking bird.
The wind is picking up now. As we approach Abbott’s Lagoon I see the surface is alive with tiny wind whipped waves. The color of the water is a deeply saturated shade of royal blue. Now the wind is really alive! We walk along the shore of the lagoon, this section is closer to the ocean and has small whitecaps on it. A few brave ducks are being tossed about like bath toys. Now we come to the edge of a long stretch of dunes. An old weathered plank of lumber sits astride a giant tree trunk, weathered bone white by who knows how many years on the beach. Carol and I each climb onto an end and a teeter-tottering we go! Now we’re children, innocent and free we giggle with joy, breathing in the salty air and the wind and the blessing of this day.
The full force of the wind hits us as we leave the relative windbreak of the dunes. Now there’s just ocean and sky and an endless stretch of sand as far as we can see in both directions. We are the only ones here. Walking up the beach takes more than a bit of effort as this wind seems to have other plans for us. A strong gust kicks up and we’re nearly blown backwards, but we happily soldier on, grooving on this magnificent show that Mother Nature is putting on for us.
The sea is angry today. The surf is churning with white mountains of sea foam. One by one the waves roll onto the beach, there are no sets, no break between waves. The constant white noise roar of the wind and the surf fills the air. The air is alive and so are we! Mounds of sea foam, like whipped cream, like cumulus clouds come to rest on land, accumulate along the surf line. When the wind hits these mounds they are transformed into dancing sea foam faeries that break apart into individual bits and are blown up towards the dunes. They grow smaller and smaller as they travel until they literally disappear into the sand, it’s like a magician’s wand is waved and “poof!”, they’re gone!
Next we come across what at first appears to be a triangular piece of sun bleached driftwood about three feet on either side. Upon further inspection we find that this is actually a bone. Only whale bones are this big. It looks ancient. It’s been a very long time since this whale has plied these waters.
Sand is blowing low along the surface of the beach, it looks like smoke or the “sands of time” effect a filmmaker uses to show a character as they move back and forth through time, it’s surreal and magical. And the light…oh my! The quality of the light here today is dreamy and hypnotic and like in a dream, all edges are blurred. I feel almost hypnotized.
We see a small A-frame structure made from driftwood up along the edge of the dunes. Tattered buddhist prayer flags hang from the roof and dance wildly in the wind. Inside is a small rectangular box. I open it and find a journal. There are two years worth of writing among its pages. I read a few of the entries and am touched by the deep emotions expressed by the writers. The energy here seems to bring out the poet in folks. I leave a brief note myself, giving thanks for this day and for sharing it with the love of my life on Valentine’s Day.
We soldier on until we tire of fighting the wind. On the way back our bodies become sails, we move effortlessly with the wind now at our backs. Those sea foam faeries are everywhere, they dance across our feet on their way to oblivion. We turn into the wind and get sandblasted! I bend over at a crazy angle and the force of the wind keeps me upright. We’ve been here for hours now so the low angle of the sun makes this wild landscape look even more trippy. Our shadows, long and spindly, trail out before us. It’s easy to lose track of time while I’m here as this place seems to exist outside of time.
The lagoon is again within sight, its color has deepened in the late afternoon light to a cobalt blue. We cross a short wooden bridge, pause for a moment and that’s when we see the otter. A healthy population of river otters lives here and one of them has decided to come up onto the dunes just opposite us. With childlike abandon, this beautiful animal rolls about coating itself with sand. It sees us but we are just far enough away that it barely pays us any notice. With our binoculars we can get up close and observe the subtle colors of its fur, its large feet, perfectly adapted for paddling, its dark eyes and puppy dog-like face. After about ten minutes our otter friend slides back into the water and dives under, disappearing from view. We just stare in wonder, marveling at what we were so blessed to have witnessed.
Simply stated, Point Reyes National Seashore is a magical place. Out here at Abbott’s Lagoon in the far northern part of the park there’s always an extra dose of enchantment in the air. The convergence of sky and sea, windswept dunes and eternal beaches, otters, herons and songbirds and that unmistakable feeling that something unknowable is afoot fills my heart with joy and wonder.
Our hike comes to an end with the perfect grace note of sunset. Our star, the source of all life on Earth, dips into the blue Pacific and day is done. Namaste.
