Some days are predictable. Others are filled with the unexpected. On some days, a theme readily presents itself when I reflect. Other days seem to be a hodgepodge of varying impressions. Today was such a day, and I don’t know that I have anything really profound to share. But sometimes, once I begin writing, I am surprised by the direction my thoughts take. We will see what happens this evening.
We had a goal in mind for today: Sonoma. And we had planned a general route: along the coast, through San Francisco, and across the Golden Gate Bridge. Google Maps had said this drive would take just a little over two and a half hours, but we knew better. We have enjoyed stopping wherever the mood strikes, so we planned to go at a leisurely pace and take all day to reach our destination. Perhaps this is a generally healthy way to live all of life. Set a goal toward which to move, but don’t be in a hurry to get there. Then notice what happens along the way, and learn from it.
One major surprise has been how quickly the landscape changes here along the Central California Coast. The transition from developed and densely populated to heavily agricultural to completely undeveloped is rapid and startling.
We have seen, over the last few days, vast fields of produce of every kind. Often they stretch as far as the eye can see. And they run right up to the coast in many areas. Clearly, much is mechanized in the tilling, planting, and maintenance of the fields. But the harvesting still seems to be mostly done by hand. We have frequently passed fields filled with workers bent over the crops, some running full containers to waiting trucks and then running back again. Workers are paid by the pound or container harvested, so speed is of the essence. What, I wonder, is life really like for those who harvest our crops? How many of us could handle the long hours in the fields, bent over crops that grow close to the ground? When I do my shopping at a local supermarket or enjoy a meal at a restaurant, do I consider the labor involved, the human lives necessary to get each meal to my plate? Am I grateful for those who have worked so that I may eat? It is, I think, worth considering.
Urban areas, of course, are all along the coast. We visited Mission Santa Cruz, which turned out to be in a fairly rough part of Santa Cruz. Although daily Mass is held in the mission chapel, the building and small garden are not well maintained. No one seemed to care whether we were there or not. At first I was only thinking of what a shame this was. But then John pointed out that the church seems to be heavily involved in mission work, including a food pantry to which people were flocking. (It’s fascinating that, only a few miles away, workers are throwing away much of the food in the vast, lush fields, yet here, so close by, there are those who are going without. Can this be right? I wonder what the Lord thinks of this state of affairs…) Perhaps this parish has its priorities more in line than I thought. They are serving the living. What could be more important?
Between Monterey and San Francisco, there are great stretches of land that are totally undeveloped. A good bit of this is rocky and, though gorgeous, rather inhospitable. But much of it is simply gently rolling, grassy hill country. It is a mystery to us why it is neither farmed nor developed. But I am grateful because it is simply beautiful.
Along the way we stopped in a family-owned market in the small town of Pescadero for a sandwich and salad for lunch. We enjoyed these in the car at a pull-off on top of a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean. We stopped to explore Pigeon Point where there is a lighthouse that looks like it could be in New England.
We made our way through the streets of San Francisco (which truly are incredibly steep!) and visited Mission San Francisco de Asis. Again, I was amazed at the peace of the place, despite the playground noise from the school next door.
A drive across the Golden Gate Bridge took us to Vista Point where we could look back on the bridge and the skyline of San Francisco across the bay.
And now we have settled in for the night at a quaint little inn in Sonoma.
It’s been a lovely day, full of charming surprises. I really have nothing particularly profound to share. And perhaps this is as it should be. Perhaps it is good to simply have space to breathe once in a while and just enjoy what the day brings.