Looking Up!

One of the truisms of horse riding is that you should look to where you want to be. If you look down at the ground then that is your destiny but, if you lift your eyes over the obstacle to your distant goals, then you will achieve them.

Our (My) original plan was to leave work behind us at noon on Friday and head south for our weekend of eagle-spotting. We were both thwarted and supported by the request from Artist Jane Rosen for an appointment to choose stones from our inventory to use in displaying her works.

We have worked with Jane Rosen before. She is a seriously creative artist and sculptor grown from New York Bohemian roots and transplanted to a coast side ranch where her love of nature has led her to produce a series of carved stone and now blown glass falcons, hawks and eagles. The energy and excitement of finding and appreciating the best colors, textures and shapes in our stones, as well as being welcome business, gave us pleasure and made the time fly by.

Knowing that we had a three hour drive to our destination, the last forty miles on very rural, unlit windy roads and we would be unable to get there before dark, I conceded that Hubby could have one more night in his own bed but that the alarm would ring at 5am, no excuses accepted. We had a smooth early morning trajectory and were welcomed by the staff and out on the lake by 10 am; supplied with loaner binoculars much stronger than my own and a map of the lake studded with silver stars , showing where most eagle sightings were to be expected.

For most of the morning, we were the only boat stirring the waters. The weather was perfect; mostly sunny and warm enough to laze around semi-snoozing between arduous bouts holding binoculars to our eyes. The eagles are first spotted as a dark outline, perched in the topmost branches of the abundant oak trees as they survey the open grassland for rodents and snakes. They are there to breed and reproduce before continuing their migratory path. I was satisfied just to have seen one and know from the locals that there were two dozen at last count. I didn't exert myself too much and counted 5 eagles myself. As the thermals rose a little towards the middle of the day two eagles took flight and circled before dropping out of sight beyond the crest of the hill.

Eagles are not the only wildlife of course. I bundled up and took my coffee outside to watch the sunrise Sunday morning with a mama deer and her two fawns. Mama came to eat bread from my hands and then all three grazed nearby for a while.
A storm had been predicted for later in the day and, when it was time to leave, we headed towards the coast to face the weather head on. The dormant vineyards between Paso Robles and Cambria were dissolved in white fog before we got too far and then we were hit by the pounding rain.
Up the coast road past San Simeon it was too wild to stop. The elephant seals were not only on the beaches but out into the ice plants, heads up  roaring to the sweeping rain. They are so huge that they were visible from the car as we drove by.
Hubby likes to drive, especially in challenging conditions. There were a few boulders down in the road and we saw multiple emergency vehicles involved in hauling some poor soul back up the cliff just before we stopped for lunch in Gorda. It was too foggy for a helicopter rescue, that's for sure.

As we neared Carmel the skies cleared and we pulled into Point Lobos to stretch our legs and look for sea otters. If you were a sea otter looking for a beautiful place to raise a family, you would be hard pressed to find a more perfect spot than Point Lobos' China cove. The water is always turquoise, even on a stormy, January day.

I hope the sea otter by the rocks, near the center of this picture will be visible. He's on his back, floating and noshing on something. Then he would dive to catch something else and resume his concentration on his tummy-top buffet, completely impervious to the roiling swells.
So, my weekend was condensed into a shorter span than planned but we fit way more in than we could have imagined by just going with what felt right at that moment. Finding our way back from "My" to "Our" for a while, clearing our heads and facing into whatever storms lie ahead.

Grumpy-Pants

A husband who is not really enthused about a weekend getaway leaves a trail of clues, like breadcrumbs, hoping he will be able to find his way back to staying home.
Multiple questions over the last few days; "Where are we going again?", "Are we still planning on going?", "What are we going to be doing?", "When are we planning on going?".
Bearing in mind that this is a place we used to go to often, when we had a boat, in the summer time, this "amnesiac" approach is not gaining much ground with me. We even rented this same cabin one Thanksgiving and went with friends, so I know there is heat and all mod. cons.
When I left for work this morning Mr. Grumpy-Pants had returned to bed and put a pillow over his face. If he were a kid he would be running the end of the thermometer under the hot water tap before showing his mummy he has a fever and should not be sent to school.
If you hear an Amber Alert in California later today we may well be the cause. I am imagining a pathetic face peering out of the car window, holding a homemade "I've been kidnapped" sign - written in French, of course!