On Sunday, we rented a car and drove north to Pt. Reyes.
Unlike previous visits, there wasn’t a trace of fog. Baby Holsteins were getting weened from their mothers sad, little plastic pens. Hawks and turkey vultures were on the prowl. The deer played and the antelope were nowhere to be found.
Along the shore by the cliffs of Drakes Beach, sea lions were loudly fighting.
An unnecessary fence.
Two climbers bringing crash mats to the base of a massive boulder.
J. versus infinity.
An abandoned farm house with thriving apple tree.
Ford truck and Tomales Bay.
The boat yard.
One of my favorite sights in Inverness.
Marshy part of the Drakes Bay estuary.
Spent oyster shells and dingy.
A massive pile of shells.
Crates and mesh.
Two osyters on the half shell: $4.
Milk-splattered milk truck.
The entrance to a historic ranch.
The yellow cliffs of Drakes Bay.
They were familiar sights, but a needed break from urbanity.