Muir Woods, too!
How many nights have I spent camping on the slopes of Mount Shasta. Lying in the summer sunlight at Squaw Meadow? Bunny Flat? Inundated with snow in May? I'll never forget it falling through the trees. The whiteness everywhere. The cold white mist.
We spent hours lying in fields of wildflowers overlooking the Pacific.
Every morning I drove across the Golden Gate Bridge into the city, opened the windows to let the fog flow through the car.
Jogging across the Bridge?
Swimming naked in the pool overlooking the golf course at Pebble Beach?
How many times have I taken the ferry from Vallejo to San Francisco for dinner?
How many times dined, sipped wine, and gazed at the beauty all around at Alioto's?
How many strolls down Ocean Avenue in Carmel?
Lying the the sunlight on the cliffs of Big Sur, flowers everywhere, music playing, the waves crashing on the rocks below, the blue Pacific an undulating sapphire, and soft hands slowly massaging for hours--I wondered, "Am I in heaven or what?"