In Celebration of Spring

In honor of spring, and no job to need to be at on a Friday, Tucker and I headed west to the sea’s horizon.

The Carpinteria Bluffs is one of our favorite spots, right off the 101 highway and you can make the walk as long or as short as you’d like. There’s a baseball field and athletic center to the south (walkable or drivable), a bluff’s worth of trails (which makes me think of Half Moon Bay), seals to catch a glimpse of, an ocean to gaze at, and even a beach to wander on if you time it right.
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Luckily our timing for low tide worked out. As did our timing for witnessing the landing of a heron, its almost six foot wingspan coming at us up the trail, then diverting into the field.  I didn’t catch the descent on camera, but I was able to capture the beautful creature in pixels as it stood in the meadow.

And catching this smile, for me, is everything. It’s a joy I only see when Tucker is inhaling the ocean’s breeze in the sunshine. It’s as if his entire body and soul is being embraced by the oceanside.

Down the precarious path of eroded dirt, we landed on soft beach. With so much room, it would be easy to avoid the little droplets of tar that solidified from the offshore oil coming in with the tide. (And there's that smile again...)

Tuck didn’t care (but he would later) about tar on his toes; he just wanted to explore this new found landmass.

The amount of shells and treasures washed up on shore was a delight.

Someone even left their heart behind.

We had never experienced such extensive mossy and algae-covered landscape. This was the lowest tide we had ever been in.

Back up on the bluff, we avoided the “off limits” area, but still got a great view of the seal nursery.

Unlike Cambria, where we were welcome to stand behind the fence and view the families only a few meters away, the seal conservators here don’t allow bikes, dogs, or really anything at the edge of the cliff where you could see the seals, three stories below. We were many meters away from seals, but they claim that the seals would be scared of the dogs and not return. As you can see, they’re just fine, and there is no way dog nor seal can interact. (Note: this is a view just a little ways from the official “lookout”; we were not violating ecological rules.)

Onto the second bluff, one covered in wildflowers and where we could walk among eucalyptus trees.

We caught up with a photographer who kindly showed me his photo of two seals hanging out on a buoy way out in the distance. I hope it’s published one day—it was truly beautiful.

Tucker preferred to experience the bluff through scents and sounds alone, so he lied down in the shade, closed his eyes, and took it all in. I would have also liked to have seen the ocean while this was happening, but I wanted him to have his time and his experience. So I sat down, and listened to the waves I could not see, and took in the scents of the nearby flowers mixing with the salty sea air.

When Tucker was satisfied with his bluff experience, he rose up and headed over to the flowers for a closer sniff.

Dogs have have the best olfactory sense in the world, and still, they need to get a whiff up close.

We walked back and took in the view as the tide starting coming in.

Then we were off to our favorite vineyard in Ojai, a must stop when we drive to the Pacific Ocean. There is no ocean or sea breeze, but it is beautiful in its own way. 

Tucker gets to nap, and I get a bottle of wine paired with processed food snacks and can sit and listen to the breeze and watch the birds.

Sometimes, we even get visitors: like a new canine mascot of the vineyard who keeps her distance but enjoys the laid back atmosphere. Tucker was quite happy to meet one of his own kind here.

As we were about to leave, a group of young women in their late twenties holding an entirely too-large camera found their way to the pergola line and asked if I would take their photo. Evidently Polaroid 2.0 is the all the rage. A much more enormous hunk of equipment and the photo, of a different size ratio, pops out the top rather than than the bottom.

After taking their ladies’ group outing photo, they asked if I wanted our photo taken. With so few photos of Tucker and me together, I couldn’t say No.

And so, here we are, looking like we were at a vineyard together in 1994.

I’ve found that the longer Tucker and I are together, the harder it is for me to truly recall a time without him. Not that I inserted him into my high school prom or my drive to Los Angeles after college. But more like his essence has always been with me, throughout my life on another plane of existence, following along in my adventures. And he chose one moment ten years ago to appear in physical form and join me on this earth so we could explore the world together for a spell.

Tomorrow is never a guarantee. We have right now, and I feel so lucky to spend every minute with Tucker. Our time on earth limited, but when it comes to our connection and our love: it’s forever.