Boy do I love this town! Yes, it ain’t what it was in the ’50s (what is?), but it’s got so much. A lot of it having to do with the town’s Feng Shui, perched as it is on the northern edge of the huge Monterey Bay (Monterey is at the southern edge). There’s a clarity in the air from the ocean. Colors vibrant. That extra warmth we don’t have in the San Francisco zone that allows for the occasional avocado tree, and better corn and tomatoes.

This temple or whatever has been here (West Cliff Drive neighborhood) for at least 60 years.

There’s that Southern Cal vibe. I’ve always felt that southern California starts in South San Francisco. The further south you go, the warmer things get, and the looser. It’s just more relaxed. More fun where the livin’ is easy. Skateboarders flying all over town. Surfers out everywhere yesterday. A town of serious cycling. This morning I’m at the ultra-cool Verve Roasters, 816 41st Ave, serious barista folk, good wi-fi connection (pic below). That’s a Hungarian wild cherry pastry there. In same block on 41st is the Cliff Cafe, great breakfast, the Freeline Surf Shop, The Santa Cruz Skate Shop, Pink Godzilla Sushi — lively hood just a few blocks from the Hook.

I spent last night at the beach. These 24-hour expeditions are rewarding. Quick out and back. Set up my campsite (got a new Osprey backpack, a great design (way improved from my 20-yr-old Gregory pack). Then started worrying. What will I do from dark until bedtime? No internet/TV/electricity/other humans/book to read, etc. Well I needn’t have worried. Roasted mussels on fire, made freeeze-dried teriyaki chicken w. rice. Bit of tequila. Looking into the fire, listening to waves, checking the present unique skies, Jupiter and Venus and their gavotte with the moon, Mars rising later in its rosy redness, Orion, the Pleiades, my man Taurus. Civilization dropped away. This morning I found kind of cave, or grotto that was facing the morning sun, I scootched back into it, lay on my back on the sand, watched the waves and a couple of cruising seals, sun was warm, felt a great contentment.

You can never tell what it’s going to be like on the beach. A few days ago I rode my bike to a distant beach and walked a mile or so on the rocky shore. Tide just starting to come back in. It had rained ¼” the night before and the air was fresh and loaded with negative ions. Surf big. Water with bluish almost metallic sheen. Sun starting to set, no wind, a reddish Winter-going-into-Spring cast to rocks and driftwood. I was thrilled.

Unexpectedly I came across this little driftwood bench. Sat down, toked up, watched sun dropping down to horizon. Reflecting on the instinct to build. Some people just have it, they put things together, like the person who assembled the driftwood for this beach lovers’ perch. (That’s my right foot there.) Good on ya, mate!