42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

Before I started thinking too much about the whole birthday thing, I had fun.

I’ve complained about the big California conspiracy before… Not all beaches are sunny and warm.

But this time, I went somewhere warm. Had to ask around, to find out how far south you’d have to go to be warm.
The answer was Ventura and Ventura County. Technically still part of the Central California coast, I think it only qualifies because it’s not actually Hell-A. Though within spitting distance.

Went to several beaches, mostly by zen accident. The only place we really meant to go to was Santa Barbara, and traffic jam kept us from going (though we thought we were being clever when we tried to take backroads. Turns out everyone else had thought of that too, creating another jam.)

So instead of going to see an authentic Mission, we just went to another warm beach. Tough, huh?
Soaked our feet in the salty water. Reveled at the sight of surfers waiting patiently for waves.

Greetings from Mel B. is what this says. Would’ve looked better if I’d used a stick instead of my shoe.

A wall at Silver Strand beach in Oxnard. It was gorgeous and warm and virtually no people were out. Apparently 80 degrees is hot in November, but not hot enough to go swimming. Except for a couple of enterprising kids and well… Heather and me. We didn’t go swimming, but stuck our feet in the water eventaully.

You never know what’s going to happen when you talk to people. There’s the occasional etiquette of saying hello to complete strangers walking down the street or barely known neighbors. I didn’t know you could get in a long conversation by saying hello to a dog. But his caretaker was very friendly, and it was a hello to her too. She talked about everything from how hot it was, how gorgeous it was, the wildfires in nearby Ventura, the tide, rich people and their beach houses, and of course Joe, the dog. Joe was very sweet and played fetch with a tennis ball more often covered in sand than not.

Waiting for sunset at a state beach in Ventura. We had a good time playing with tide. As someone not familiar with tides (because Lake Michigan doesn’t have them, or at least, not strong ones), I was fascinated by the push and pull of the waves. It was hypnotic, really. The water would rush in around my legs, pulling my feet deeper into the wet sand, and then pull back out. The foam of the water hissed around me. Sometimes I felt powerful, like walking on water, and enjoyed the dizzy feeling of walking on shallow water as the sheet of water pulled back to the ocean.

Obligatory bird shot. Mostly good because of the light.

Obligatory sunset portrait of Heather.

Sunsets are hard to mess up.

We went for a drive at night and ended up in Port Hueneme. Never saw it in daylight. But did go for a walk on a pier at a beach there. Apparently it’s an adolescent mating ritual haven. All I know is I wanted to take pictures, experiment with long exposures and my tripod. Well, the experiment turned out pretty crappy. I’ve learned some things about shooting at night, and one thing is don’t shoot so near a tungsten light. And don’t look so young or stupid that a couple of guys come up and try to hit on you, asking stupid questions about photography. We decided they were trying to pick us up afterward, but at the time, I was more paranoid about someone trying to rush me and steal my beautiful camera.
Anyway, the explanation behind this photo, which is unfortunately the best I came up with, is that I was trying to get some blurred motion in a long exposure and was acting goofy. I ended up looking like a zombie. I’d much rather that any of my beach shots turned out, but they were pretty ho-hum at best.

For my dad. At the same place, we saw this cool old Ford Maverick, which is kin to a Chevy Vega. For those of you who don’t know, my dad’s fourth and arguably best-behaved child is a ‘72 Vega. I figured there was some law about me being required to take a picture of any Vega-like car I come across, and I was just going to take a picture, but then the car’s owner came up. I asked him if I could take the picture, and he seemed happy to oblige. His car’s also a ‘72, and all original.

The next day, we tried to go to Santa Barbara, but just ended up really frustrated in a traffic jam on the freeway. So instead of doing anything in a city, we headed back to the beach, to the Rincon Parkway. It’s a place right along a beautiful stretch of ocean, mostly rocky, where people can pay to camp their RVs. Literally next to the shore. Imagine waking up to that. Makes me wish I had an RV, or could beg, borrow or steal one. There were a few surfers waiting off in the water, a little like a school of sharks, just waiting for the waves.
There was also tons of driftwood, which people apparently use to make into huts. Whether it’s just for fun or actual shelter, I don’t know. My favorite was what I call the Happy Hut. There were two smiley face chairs in front, and a pair of boxer shorts run up as a flag.
We also saw what was likely a dolphin dipping up into the water on occasion. I couldn’t get a good shot of it though. We decided it had to be a dolphin rather than a shark, because it seemed to be playing or coming up for air.

For more pictures, check out my Flickr set.