Highpoint @ Limantour Beach Road – Point Reyes National Seashore
We take the road to the sea for our weekly sunset beach picnic, stopping in at the Inverness Park Deli for the Sunday fried chicken special. Ghostly gray patches of fog ripple through creases of mountainside along Vision Peak as we wind our way along the road to ocean upon the rippling back of seismic plates. Milky white of clouds obscure the profile of the Farralon Islands that usually punctuate the horizon at the peak. Reminiscent of the descent in a plane, waves of clouds sheer then disperse, sweeping around us teasing with panoramic views, then around the next turn a wall of white. We park and walk the sandy path across Limantour Estuary, crest the dunes to the beach where sand and fog become one, the sound of crashing waves muffled in troposphere tight around us. We sit on a log and enjoy the strange obfuscation of this massive beach, foreshortened and swathed in fog. It is a short stay as we lick our fingers and gather our dinner remnants. As we mount the summit, we pull over in awe bursting from lowland obscurity into elevated clarity. The fog line blankets the ocean and estuary below while clouds and sun replay the grand finale above. It illustrates the warp and weft of our limited vision, the clouded clutch of depression and sadness nestled just beneath the illuminating light of enjoyment and ease at the next rise and turn of the road. We frame the spectral show along roadside paths, walking in opposite directions. Greg descends along a narrowing trail and I trace the edge of the peak road for a wider view of sky. We meet and descend once again into thick fog, water droplets suspended in atmosphere tight upon the surface of our world. We are graced to live beneath an atmospheric river.