But none are more romantic than the fabulous Moonstone Beach, just off Pacific Coast Highway 1, and one of the most wildly beautiful bits of coastline I've ever seen.
I'm not sure what a moonstone is precisely, except that it's one of my birthstones and I'm sure I should have one. Probably several. But whatever a moonstone is, I know it must be enchanted, for I never fail to come to this beach of coarse dark sand and diamond-tossed, blue-green waters and find creatures of myth or whimsy. Sometimes it's just stars on the water. Or it could be that mysterious lean-to, intricately constructed of driftwood and tied with seaweed, looking for all the world like the skeleton of a prehistoric giant, gazing mournfully out to sea. 
It might be a seawitch, undone by her own sorcery and trapped forever in spectral driftwood.
Or it could be a sleeping dragon, a shaman's stick left resting on his charmed neck.
On black rocks sleepy sirens wail and whisper siren calls.
The sea elephants of Moonstone Beach are a friendly lot and quite accustomed to respectful commune. I'm not sure how long I spent gazing soulfully into my merfriend's eyes, or watching her pals splash, dive and swim mischievously toward me. I'd steel myself, wary, and dare not move, meeting inquiring eyes with my own and wondering just how close we would dare each other to come. Each time they dove, they'd surface just a small bit closer, before laughing (I thought) and swimming gaily away.
Time and reality fall away in places such as this, leaving behind only essential truths, which are felt more than reasoned. I am no clear-eyed seeker; what little wisdom I possess has had to chase me down, knock me on the head and beat me sensible. And yet serenity finds me at this beach. Always. 
We are all connected on this planet. In this universe. We need to take better care of each other. We need to take better care of every living thing on this earth; of this ocean. We need to take better care.
This is beauty. This is truth. And that is all I know, or need to know.*
* with many abject apologies to Keats
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6 comments:
Lovely, Gigi. Reminds me so of our own Oregon coast, where I can gladly become lost (found?) any time, any day.
You and your beach both blew me away here.
Wow! I love how you intersperse humor with such a weighty topic to make it even more profound. That last picture is simply amazing. She's posing!
Where is this place?
Ha! Great travel writer. ;D I meant to say...it's in Cambria, only about 13 miles south of San Simeon (Hearst Castle) and just off PCH.
Absolutely brilliant post, you brought this special place alive with your observations. There is something magical about wild , untamed spots such as this, that is unique in our overcrowded world. I love to stand on the edges of ocean beaches just to imagine the vast emptiness reaching across to some exotic locale.
Keats would not have minded the slight paraphrase. Beautiful post.
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