Chapter CXII: Reflections on a Rock

Beach detritus. Refugio, CA.

"Refugio State Beach 1 mi." I'd seen that rusty green sign a hundred times over the last three years, passing it every few weeks on the five hour trek to Orange County. It had never meant anything to me, just another off-ramp to nowhere that I'd never take.

This time, I was driving home after tying up some loose ends in San Luis Obispo, and snipping off others. Conceivably, I would never drive up this patch of road again. On a sudden whim, I pulled off the 101 and into a dusty lot.

The beach was utterly deserted, and the crashing of the waves oddly recalled the ebb and flow of traffic on the distant freeway. I walked on the beach for about an hour, my cheap digital camera snapping away. I thought about my life, how I'm satisfied with its direction, yet wondering all the same if I could have been happier.

There were so many off-ramps I passed over and over again, but never took.