As we drove away from La Jolla, I watched the sun-drenched town grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. We made our way north on Highway 101 with the giddy anticipation of children on Christmas morning, eager to discover what sort of adventures awaited us next on our trek up the coast of California.
Life as I knew it was slowly morphing into a daily quest for sunsets in unfamiliar places but with the most familiar and dear soul, and that fact alone was enough to solidify our road trip as one of the best decisions we had made in a long time.
We arrived in Crescent Bay Point Park approximately an hour before the sun was due to set and quickly finding the rare empty bench slightly elevated above the actual beach, we wrapped ourselves in sweaters to shield from the evening chill that had already began its descent and settled in for a dreamy afternoon of basking in the panoramic views of the vast ocean and the tide pool for which the area was known.
How we managed to locate this gem of a spot without any real knowledge of the area was completely beyond me, but I wasn’t one to question fate and instead, focused my attention at the varying shades of gold that now permeated every inch of Laguna Beach.
Time passed quickly in intimate conversation when suddenly someone voiced the idea to go down to the beach and watch the sun set from there. With no time to spare, we ran down the rather steep steps and immediately fell into a leisurely stroll down the coastline, picking up right where we left off.
I may not remember what we talked about, or what I wore (if it weren’t for the photos), but I will always remember the sense of peace and contentment as we made our way back up the beach in sheer darkness, with only the sliver of a moon above us and the lights of the city ahead.
Such are my memories of Laguna Beach.