Because it was 4:30 on Tuesday afternoon before our motor home repairs were finished, Jerry and I debated whether to stay another night in San Bernardino or head on up the Pacific Coast. Our annual church camp meeting convenes next Monday in Santa Maria and we had planned to spend a couple of days in Rincon, a regional beach park near Ventura. The issue with going in the evening, is that it is not possible to make reservations at Rincon and it is difficult to exact a spot during the summer. Usually those who leave a site do so early in the morning, so by 10:00 am, most spots are gone for the day.
Onward! was the decision and luck (or God or something) was with us, so that a few minutes before 7:00 as we slowly moved down the camping strip, peering about for an empty spot, a motor home pulled onto the roadway.
“Get out, Shirley. Run over and save the spot.”
I slid my feet into shoes, crossed the highway, and while Jerry drove to a place where he could turn around the rig, I stood our piece of ocean-front property.
From our open motor home door after we had set up, I viewed and photographed the sunset. Shortly after dark, Jerry and I plopped exhausted into bed, windows open, the cool ocean air wafting over our faces as we slept.
On Wednesday morning after breakfast, I scrambled down the rocks and walked along the beach for a couple of hours. Magnificent and a’roar with power.
At the place where I had to turn around, I spotted this limb whose curve and sandy position attracted me (and my camera, I could tell.) I crouched, snapped two shots and just as the third view was in my lens, the branch began moving, was knocked down by a crashing wave (as you can see) and rushed me, so that the lower part of my body was drenched. I think I’m not the best judge of the essence and trajectory of ocean energy.
The tide was definitely coming in, I decided: I could see the beach was narrowing. Wisely, I headed toward our rig.