I live in one of Northern California’s quaint yet tattered coastal villages. I happen to love cold, wind and fog, which is why it works out so well for me. Northern California’s beaches are very different than the beaches you see down in Southern California. People actually die in the surf here on a regular basis because of what we call “sleeper waves,” big waves that come out of nowhere, snatch up random people, and play with them until they are worn out and can’t make it back to shore. This is a place where even PETA would lobby in favor of saving the poor oppressed humans against the heartless cruelty of the ocean.
Ours is a sleepy little town, mostly. During the week it is especially so, as the residents get up, go to work, and stay inside their houses once they get back home. Dogs are walked, children are heard but not seen, smells of cooking and woodsmoke intermingle with fabric softener as you stroll down the streets. There is a mixture of neighborhoods here of course, from the high-priced homes around the golf course to the trailer park down by the water, but in general people go about their lives in relative peace and harmony. Read the rest of this entry »