As far back as I can remember there has always been a part of me that consistently remains restless. Memories of sitting in a theater during a broadway show, movie or pageant (yeah, I had a unique childhood), reaching the hour and a half mark, knowing I was approaching my limit. My legs would feel like they were going to burst open if I didn’t shift them, the urge to move would become overwhelming. Intermission was my savior.
As I got older and the freedom of a vehicle came into play, my restlessness started to gain territory. Weekends became road trips and my addiction to discover new ground was born. My fascination knows no boundaries, from one road towns that sit quietly in the middle of nowhere with their local diners and single gas stations, to huge urban landscapes adorned with traffic lights, congested crosswalks and sky scraping towers. I am easily amused and can find something that strikes me in all of it.
I moved out of my parents house within a month or so of turning eighteen, and have yet to go back. In the past 12 years, I have lived in 4 different zip codes, changed apartments 5 times and held jobs in 7 different cities. Now, as a happily married grown-up with a great job and solid sense of stability, the restlessness has not necessarily lessened but more trained itself to holdout for the weekends. Ryan, with his undiagnosed ADD, pairs perfectly with my habit to roam. We both get the bug to go and love being out of town, open roads, hotel stays, new places, old spots, all with camera in hand. Realistically, we just can’t always make it lavish adventures. Our favorite way to medicate the urge to get up and get out is to book a weekend at the coast house. As mentioned in “MacKerricher and the 85mm”, we frequent Fort Bragg and the Mendocino coast often and always manage to find something we haven’t seen.
This past weekend, with the ever present anxiety to hit the road and find fresh visual stimulation, we decided to take the gear on a hike. Using our favorite research tool, Google, we selected the Fern Trail in Van Damme State Park. Up until now, my experience in Little River has been brunch at the Little River Inn every September during a golf tournament that my Dad and his oldest and dearest annualy play in. Last Saturday we witnessed an entirely different side of Little River. First, I learned it’s actually a real river and not just an adorable name for a fancy inn. Second, I learned how over powering a trail embedded in a valley of ferns and forestry can be. Third, I learned the importance of a map.
My current favorite thing to shoot on our nature days is water current and although the river is more of a creek right now, the water was running. For me, the best position to be in while shooting water is the middle of the stream. These were all shot from balancing on river rock with tripod and the husband encouraging me to not fall in. Being the clumsiest person Ryan and I know, slipping in ankle deep only twice was pure success
I’ve also grown a fascination with using our 85mm to capture plant life from an unconventional angle. The ferns were totally new for me and I was obsessed with the perfect symmetry in each leaf or stem or palm? Leaf I think.
Covering a little over 3 miles in a little over 3 hours (we stop a lot), by the time we had made it back to the car my lower back, legs and soul were ready to kick up with a cocktail and start sorting through the hundreds of shots we had captured through out the day. Of course, my back, legs and spirit are never too tired to take full advantage of a random, empty, outdoor amphitheater in the middle of the woods. I’ve always been a sucker for a lonely stage.
There is something about the Northern California coastline that effortlesly consumes me. It sits there, unapologetically beautiful, waiting for you to come play. Grey sand beaches that seem to create themselves before your eyes, botanical pockets that are constantly being reborn, all resting on top of historical ground that somehow still feels untouched by man. Nothing makes me feel more humbled, more centered and more delightfully insignificant than the ocean.
Noodle note:
It was a great trip for both Babe and I. His eye has developed and continues to develop every time we go out. I often find myself swallowing jealousy over his productions. I can’t help but share some of my top faves from this last go around. Yeah, I married that.
