California’s sleepy central coast has always held somewhat of an inexplicable love affair. Its rolling, golden hills juxtaposed by rugged ocean bluffs form a blissful blanket of solitude, where, if only for a moment, one is swept worlds away from the rampant hustle of Los Angeles and San Francisco.
One cannot fully describe the essence of a crisp autumn morning along the central coast, yet, camera and notebook in hand, I awoke at the first light of dawn in attempt to capture a sliver of the magic known as San Simeon.
A Castle on a Hill
Sunrise upon a new day,
Light breaking over golden fields,
Sandpipers dancing upon the shoreline,
As I embrace the dawn of something beautiful.
Driftwood bent like salt-laden statues,
Guarding the entrance to an emerald sea,
It too, knows of impending fates-
Witnessing the rise and fall
Of men & nature,
It too, has learned,
The passage of time,
Does not discriminate.
Light casts shadows upon each crevice and stone,
Salt coating the air,
Coastal fog, looming in the distance,
Its tendrils encapsulating far-off shorelines,
Heavy with the tales of hungry fish and lost sailors.
While you and I
Build our fortresses of driftwood and dreams,
Of indomitable castles of stone,
Perched high upon hilltops,
And watch as the passage of time,
Weathers our barricades.
Yet in the moment-
The winds whisper of change
Of an eternal wisdom,
Beckoning me toward something beyond.
In this cove,
Of sand and coastal hills,
I feel familiarity rest its hand on my shoulder,
The sea speaking like an old friend,
Perhaps this beautiful life, this quiet place,
Is not a new hello,
But an ‘and so we meet again’.