Bodega Bay

It’s a little chilly sitting at the picnic table in the campground. Almost sunset. The wind has died down. Our campsite is carved out of the shrubbery in the sand dunes. You can hear the ocean, and an occasional foghorn. Muffled cries of some kids playing down the road.

We walked the edge of the bay when we got here, looking for new birds and happy to be by the water. It was foggy, or is it smoke, even here on the coast? The drive up from home was pleasant, with a stop in the city for a Vietnamese lunch and a chance to stretch our legs.

We haven’t had the camper out since last year at this time, when we made the same trip, even down to the pho and salad we had for lunch. Little bit of a learning curve while we figure out what goes where in the car, but it’s good to be out. We’ve had so many wonderful trips in it that it just feels like coming home. I look up from writing and see Mr S rummaging around in the vehicle, the light glows warm on the wood inside. It’s our cozy cabin on wheels.