We call it the Rocky Beach. It’s tradition to go there as a family Christmas day, whoever’s gathered here in Dana Point that year. It’s where I go to be alone any time. At least, mostly alone. The few that come are here for the same thing, or with one friend, or two, walking the rugged path beneath the bluffs, or stepping gingerly down the rocks to the tide pools, long since mostly picked clean, despite the sign, but still worth a look.<\/p>\n
I do all this too, but I also stop and park, sitting on and leaning against some combination of rock, warm on the back if the day’s been sunny. Shirtless is good when the weather’s right, and shoeless.<\/p>\n
I watch the ever-moving water, churning without stop over the shore’s bouldered border. And I wonder what makes the water white, the waves foaming as they break.<\/p>\n
And I listen . . . rather, hear . . . as there’s no way you can’t hear the roar, the pound, the lapse. Sometimes it’s a passing boat that catches the eye, or just the distance, or the sky (major distance).<\/p>\n
Sometimes I bring a book. Once, I decided to read a certain book here \u201creligiously.\u201d It was not a religious book. I came every afternoon at about the same time. I sat against the same rock, except when the tide determined otherwise, then I took another. (There has to be some flexibility in ritual.) I read that book, one chapter a day, in front of the waves, in the wind, in the sun, or in the gray on overcast days with fog horn blowing off shore. It was great. Now that rock and\u00a0Van Gogh remind me of each other, at least sometimes.*<\/p>\n
But mostly I just come here to be. Not far at my back to the east, the south, and especially to the north, 15 million souls, or is it 20, scurry to keep schedules, their long-term goals, their short-term pleasures. But here, it’s just me and the waves and the rocks and the sun and the sky, maybe a book to read, and a blank one for these notes. It’s a place just to be. And always here for me.<\/p>\n
Here’s 20 seconds of it just to give you an idea.<\/p>\n