Winter in Baja Day 58: Color explosion

A beach south of El Conejo //

This may be one of the most desolate beaches we’ve camped on so far this year.  Aside from some faded tire tracks and the occasional piece of trash, there’s no sign of another person for as far as the eye can see.  The solid overcast weather from sun up to sun down added to the lifeless feeling here.  Though many tiny sand crabs and their hermit counterparts reminded us that in every environment there’s always something that thrives.  My lack of experience in this kind of ecosystem is quickly revealed by how much I get a kick out of shells just up and walking across the beach.  

It’s a slow and quiet day for us, our energy levels always decline when the sun is unable to reach us and charge our internal batteries.  It’s even, dare I say, a bit chilly.  I layer up and even dust off my Ugg boots and can’t help but laugh at myself when I receive a text from a friend in Colorado including a photo of a 5’ tall pile of snow.  Mark & I may not be able to get away with referring to ourselves as Coloradans for much longer.

What fascinates me about a gloomy day is how the clouds can drain all color and vibrance from the environment for the entirety of the day only to reveal it all in a spectacular fashion as the sun sets.  This evening’s color explosion had us feeling as though we were in a black and white photo that all of sudden was converted to color.  A magnificent showing of nature I’ll never tire of watching.  Sometimes I feel like we live within a live stream of our very own nature channel.  I can’t wait to see what’s on tomorrow.