The morning was beautiful and I walked out to the coastline, the act seemed to somehow clear the fog of sleeplessness. The sea has the calming feeling like it in some way is part of you. The way the foam piles ride in on the crests of the waves and the boils flow around the rocks.
The farm houses reminded me of Southern Australia, they were lots of birds, raven type things and see why hickcocks birds were filmed here, the birds seem to be a lot about the personality of the landscape, the bleakness of cut farmlands and empty expanses of ocean seem to only be punctuated my these small animals.
The road cuts inland at a dramatically steep cliff face. It then winds it’s way and climbs through the hills into the narrow valleys of redwoods in the eel river valleys.
I stopped at one of the red wood groves and I met Pat Arthur who had served in Morocco in the mid nineties. She invited me to stay over at her home adjacent to the park. She also told me that there are three types of redwoods, the giants of the Sierras, the tall coastal, and the deciduous (from China?)
I headed north to Eureka and I happened on the first Saturday Art Walk. I grabbed a cup of wine at the openings. That there was not much going on in this part of the country, was confirmed by several very spacey people. There was some jamming live music!