A whale of a time at Mendocino

 It was a much needed thanksgiving break. Driving up the slopes towered by the tall redwoods that led to the quaint town of Mendocino was an absolute delight. The trees seemed to give us a warm welcome. The glorious sight of the sun's rays piercing through tithe thick vegetation remains etched in my mind even today. The woods paved way to the coastal town where a roar of waves greeted us. With one eye on the sheet of blue to our right, we drove up to our little cottage that overlooked the headlands.

The inn reminded me of an Irish Cottage, right out of a Debbie Macomber book. Just like the title of one her books, it was a cottage by the sea. In the mornings, we would often spot a beautiful cat on its rounds, throwing us a haughty glare. Its majestic gait left me in awe as I'd gaze at it longingly, hoping that it would stop by to be stroked or petted. The cat did no such thing and continued on its walk instead. The cottage was surrounded by a beautiful garden with fancy plants. 

One purple flower caught my fancy. Later I learned that it was called Hydrangea and I held the flower in my hand. These were little treasures of nature that I never missed especially when I am on a vacation or a hike. 

I continued my hike outside the trails on the headlands, listening to the sound of waves crash against the rocks. They were a huge and gigantic which triggered the conversation towards a possibility of a Tsunami. "What would happen if a Tsunami struck this town?" my hubby quipped while I gave him a quizzical look at this morbid thought on a vacation. Strangely I had dreamt of a Tsunami a couple of times and often struggled to derive meaning out of it. Was it anxiety, anger or some sort of change? 

I looked at the waves. The blue mass of volume interspersed with frothy white hues moved with a force that made me stare at it in awe. There was something rhythmic about the way the waves moved. They would form these little curls or rollers as I'd like to call them and hit the shore with a vengeance before they retreat. It seemed like they were trying to get something within their clasp but realized their limits and pulled back. Perhaps it was their way of instilling a lesson of keeping things and feelings under control. It is no mystery of what would happen if they did not retreat and continued flowing towards land. This brought me back to my hubby's point about a Tsunami. The magnitude of the waves can never be underestimated. As much as nature has the power to nurture, it can destroy in its fury. Trees are uprooted, lives are claimed, homes are destroyed. Scars of such a catastrophe still remain and fail to fade away with time. 

I shivered and pulled my jacket closer. It wasn't because of the chill winter breeze. I continued watching the waves. They had cast a spell on me. There was something magical and mysterious about them.  There was a different world beneath those waves. My hubby and daughter were walking up and down the trails, baffled with my fascination towards the sea. All on a sudden, I saw something move and water spraying out of something. To my delight, it was a whale. I yelped shouting, "Look a whale." Before I could click a picture of it, the magnificent mammal disappeared beneath the waves. I waited for a while, hoping that it would come out and grace its presence. Unfortunately, it didn't.  I began to walk ahead, hoping to get to the other side of the trail and the view of the sunset. 

As I walked to the other side, I noticed some resplendent shades of maroon and red. These tiny plants looks fascinating and I had often seen them along the shores. Later I learnt they were called Ice Plants. The colorful array merged with the sheet of blue, appeared like a canvas painting. What a pretty sight! I thought. 

The shrill calls of the sea gulls interspseured with the sound of waves, felt like nature organizing its own orchestra. It was those rare moments when I truly felt alive. Just being able to witness all this made me feel immense gratitude to life. Yes this year may have been challenging in several ways with the lockdown and shelter in place. The entire month of May, I had battled bouts of depression. 

I was glad to have been able to visit Mendocino and experience such wonders. I stood there watching the sun glowing in a bright manner, before it would disappear behind the clouds to rise in another part of the world. All endings are also beginnings. The sea was calmer and the sky was gradually turned into ink blue. As I made my way back to the cottage, I couldn't help thinking back to all that I had witnessed in a day. A day which otherwise would have been spent in the rigamarole of work, classes, reading and usual routine. To be able to witness the marvels of nature was a blessing.