OK so I don’t mean to brag, but Santa Cruz really is one of the most beautiful places on earth. I know, I’ve seen a few of the others, and yet… they just don’t compare. Cuba came close.

Today, while walking down to the parking lot at work, I was treated to a panorama of the entire Santa Cruz bay. Essentially, it was a heart-breakingly beautiful day. It looked like you could just reach out and grab one of the sailboats off of the ocean.

Ditto my run this morning. The waves had that kind of satiny look to them, a shimmery quality that only happens early in the morning when the light is very pure. The sun was high, the tide very low, and the air smelled of seaweed baking itself on the rocks. Everyone seemed happy to be alive – the surfers, the runners, the walkers, and the dogs. Especially the dogs.

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And me? Yes, me too. Dangerously, seductively, painfully alive, and happy, and scared out of my mind by the heartbreaking beauty of it all. But on days like this – the kind of days that make you want to roll down the windows in your car and play the music just a little bit louder, or have a barbeque with lots of friends and food and beer, or sit and fry in the sun with your bikini tie tickling your neck and the smell of sunscreen in your nose… these are the days that make it all worth it.

So yeah, sorry, but Santa Cruz really is the best damn place in the whole world.

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