Point Reyes is one of my favourite places in the world. Or perhaps it’s the favourite place in the world for me. I came to Point Reyes for the first time in 2017, just after I moved to California. The dry summer was hard on me, and I started to wonder whether I’d even be able to stay the full year I was supposed to.
Fast forward to 2021. I’m still in California — and from a big part, it’s because of Point Reyes. That place has become my home. I spent nearly every weekend there, and, eventually, started to volunteer with the National Parks Service and became a trail patrol.
I’ve experienced days filled with sun and days filled with rain, got blasted by gale and hail, and witnessed a sneaker wave or two — and I can say that no matter the weather, I was the happiest person alive just for being there.
But my favourite days are those filled with the silence that comes after thick fog descends on the wooded hills and smoothens out the ocean. When it feels like I’m the only person alive in those woods, when it feels like I’m not on this Earth anymore.
This photo is from my second visit to Point Reyes, only a week or two after the first time I visited. I spent the night in Point Reyes Station, sleeping in my very not-sleepover-friendly car, just so I could stay longer. When I walked into the woods the next morning and climbed up the trail, drops of condensed fog dripping down from the trees on me, I’ve found a true paradise. Soothing, caring, embracing fog that poured over me and my senses and bewitched me completely. Without realizing it, that was the day I got lost for this place.
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