That’s what I love about waking up. On this particular day, I had no other plans but to sit in the hot tub next to the pool at my apartment complex, and meet an old friend for lunch at Uchiwa Ramen in San Rafael, to talk about what’s next. I had the tonkatsu bowl, which was simply delicious. The only thing better was my buddy’s company. I love that about friends – their company.
On my way home, I decided on a whim upon taking another tour through the southern part of the Headlands, stopping at three spots on Conzelman Road for views of the Golden Gate Bridge. At Hawk Hill, I drove down the one-way road hugged by the Headlands to my right and the Pacific on my left. The word breathtaking doesn’t even begin to describe it.
I had come back from thirty days in beautiful India, my original home, to beautiful Sausalito, my current home. They had some things in common.
Eventually, I parked onto the Upper Fisherman’s Parking Lot and decided to make my way down the hill walking the Black Sands Beach Trail, wearing the wrong kind of shoes and wearing the wrong clothes for a mild hike, walking down one set of steps after another. The steeper the decline, the more determined I was to get onto the beach. The black sand beckoned. So that’s what I did.
That’s what I’m doing.
I’m on a rock now, and the Pacific roars. There is no sound like the Pacific in India even with the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean. There’s a part of me that believes I’ll end up in the mountains somewhere, though I don’t know if I could ever give up the Pacific. She may be angry on certain days, but she is always stunningly beautiful, and tantalizingly mesmerizing. I am drawn to these waters, like I’ve never been drawn to anything before or perhaps since. She’s music and I’m all ears.
I could spend every afternoon like this in bliss.
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ALWAYS BE EPIC.