I rise early. Everyday.
How can one sleep in in California. Beautiful, sunny, California.
I have to pinch myself regularly. As this is a dream. Living just off Highway one, on the ocean, in a national park. A dream, I tell you.
As soon as I hear the world starting to wake, my thoughts start to run wild. Where shall I hike today? Shall I forage? Shall I take photos? Shall I stay in solace or invite a friend along? Shall I read a book in the sun? Shall I go to San Francisco and drink coffee? Or wine? And hang with my cousin? Or the Evanston transplants?
Friday morning, I headed to a new trail to photograph the beautiful 65 degree day. But, as I wandered through the tall grasses, looking for antlers, I thought the day was too magnificent not to dine al fresco and share it with another.
I called my friend who lives nearby and had the day off too for an impromptu picnic on the ridge, in the rolling pastoral lands, with grazing dairy cattle to keep us company.
I had the idea but J had the local food stuffs and blanket.
Heaven. I love picnicking!
And cows. Gotta love the cows.