Another Day in Paradise
There are days that are crystal clear and achingly beautiful — another breathtaking day in Paradise, I think to myself
The shimmering sun hovers heavily over the water, brooding over barely perceptible swells.
The tiny waves absorb the sunlight, amplifying into greater swells, then crash onto the shore, battering the huge rocks.
Low flying birds almost scampering above them.
I am mesmerized by the scene.
I drive around Baja with Maureen, a realtor acquaintance here, looking at the various communities.
Some are more traditionally Mexican, funky — even a little bohemian. Some are huge communities with white-washed condos, community centers, their own restaurants and golf courses. All overlooking the gorgeous ocean.
There are days that are crystal clear and achingly beautiful — another breathtaking day in Paradise, I think to myself, as I sat alone recently at Splash, the restaurant overlooking the rocky bluffs high above the ocean where I have become a sort of regular — looking north to the expansive circle of land jutting out into the ocean south of Rosarito, like the “necklace of diamonds” further north near Palos Verde peninsula in Los Angeles. I sit, often, in a far section of the restaurant, on the patio away from the few other diners, in this time of a pandemic, and stare out at the waves crashing below.
I am drawn to this view again and again.
There are days when the fog nestles over the hills — sometimes burning off by afternoon (perfect for the wine growing region just on the other side of the mountains, I say to Maureen).
Some days, the clouds brood and hover menacingly over the waves, alerting us that rain may be passing through, although it never lingers.
Maureen and I pass Mexican men alongside the road riding horses.
“I have to get out and horse ride, again” Maureen says, and I wonder silently if my achy joints will ever allow me to climb onto a horse again.
I wonder, also, if the people who have lived here all their lives appreciate the splendor of this place. I ask that of the manager at Splash, who comes by to chat with me.
“It’s true” he says. “It is Paradise, all here for us to enjoy for free, but sometimes we get so busy, we forget about it.”
“It is Paradise”, I agree, and yet, I too, find myself not enjoying the present moments here, as much as I could, feeling I am in a holding pattern — longing to be moving on to someplace else.
Today, in spite of the lovely day driving around, an imperceptible wind blew a darker mood toward me.
