In order to refresh whatever it is that gets worn down from traffic and smog and computers and air conditioned atmospheres, one must get away. To that end Big Sur never fails to disappoint.
It's not every day that your car thermometer reads 97 driving through Big Sur. This weekend was that of a California Indian Summer.
The drought in California has done away with campfires. Christmas lights hooked up to a car battery were a worthy substitute. Despite the heat, fall hangs heavy in the air. Mulling spices heated with wine encourage the feeling.
On Sunday the low tide at Sanddollar Beach allowed people to walk a hundred yards through ankle deep swells to rock outcroppings, normally surrounded by thundering waves. The water's clarity is tropical, but the temperature is definitely Californian.
The finale was Nepenthe, the legendary Big Sur establishment overlooking the coastline. As the evening fog began to gather down the coast, we drank our last beers, and imagined Henry Miller, and John Steinbeck smoking cigarettes on the back deck, overlooking the infinity of the Pacific.