There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes.
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more...

-Lord Byron

Definition of Walkabout :

a short period of wandering as an occasional interruption of regular work
Showing posts with label exploring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exploring. Show all posts

14 March 2017

The cliffs of Elwood

Emerging from Goleta Grove I can hear the old familiar sound of ocean waves breaking on the shore. Roads crisscross along the Elwood Cliffs in playful fashion, the young run along the trails, the elderly hold hands in the morning sun.
I find a secluded spot on the cliff's edge, cross my legs in meditating fashion, close my eyes and recite poetry in my mind.

When I open them, a lone crane is a few feet from me. It is watching the ocean too as the morning fog burns off in the sun and escapes into the seaside bluffs.
A kinship is born between us, two creatures placed upon this earth at the same time, neither looking to harm the other, both only making their way through this world with a semblance of self awareness in their surroundings.

Do you take the time to truly appreciate where you are?

28 February 2017

All Hail! The Arizona Renaissance Festival

For the past twelve years (give or take a year or two), I've been driving past the "Renaissance Festival" sign at the base of the Superstition mountains in the east end of the valley. I would look out into the vast desert and wonder what truly happens here for six weeks.

This past weekend, I finally made it myself, and it was, in one word, glorious.
As soon as I entered the gates, I felt transported back in time to the Renaissance era of yesteryear. Busty corseted women and lanky knights sauntered past me, wizards and pirates strolled across the courtyard, executioners donning black capes and elf children scampered through the trees.
I'm pulled into a comedy show of irreverent nuns, a man with a mean fiery whip, three guys and some drums, belly dancers, fire eaters, and a spectacular carnevale.

This was only the tip of the iceberg though. You can try you hand wielding an axe as you attempt to throw it at a target, practice your archery skills, or perhaps show your strength as you lift the mighty mallet to impress your lady.

I go grab a leg of tasty meat with a dark pint of ale, sit back and enjoy.
So much to see and do, I'm thrilled that I decided to get a season pass so I can return for more adventures all throughout March, as there is still so much awesomeness to be found.

Be prepared, as there will be more to come over the next few weeks, but until then you wenchs, spires, kings and wizards....
Huzzah!

29 December 2014

playa El Mirador

Without much stress, I use my own internal compass to find Highway 19 out of Cabo, and before I know it, I'm cruising along the BCS coast toward the town of Todos Santos.

It's a little over an hour, and with the window rolled down and the music turned way up, I relish the tingling feeling of sun burnt skin.

The town, not without it's subtle charm, doesn't have the "it" factor I was looking for. The Hotel California stationed here seems more to trap tourists than having any historical or musical significance. I'm somewhat bummed, and start to head back....

Only a couple miles outside of town, and a car heading the opposite direction on the highway suddenly veers off onto a dirt road, and disappears. The urge to follow is a strong one.

I reason that if my head is to become severed and put on a stick by drug dealers and left in the Mexican desert for vultures, it will happen regardless....so I turn quickly down the same dirt road.
The other car is nowhere to be seen. I find old, abandoned buildings in various stages of decay. I can hear the ocean but can't see it as the desert brush and cacti obscure all view. At a crossroads in the dirt, a weathered sign has the words "El Mirador" painted on.

I follow until the sand looks too deep for my little rental car to enter without getting stuck. I park and look around me....

The beach is perhaps fifty yards away. I cautiously step to avoid a chance encounter with a rattler, and find myself completely alone on a pristine sandy beach with massive ocean waves from the incoming tide.
I run like a wild horse, kicking my feet in the water and screaming to the pelicans overhead. Shoes leave my feet, and the freedom that only childhood holds floods my body, if only for a little while.
The smile from such an unexpected discovery stays with me the rest of the day, as I look for more little dirt roads to explore.