Storm Surf and Berry Cheese Danish

Now that I've lived here for a few decades, my ears are tuned in to the lowest register of sounds:  Storm surf.  The power and immensity of a zillion tons of salt water punching granite crags in an endless conflict never ceases to stun me. 

We staggered around collecting a few things this morning, picked up a berry cheese danish (eat one, pass GO and say hello to the angels) and began to scan the shore for the best viewing spots.  You know, it was just pig heaven, pure and simple.  Yet simple it was not.  The flavor of the berries and cheese, good Valve Job coffee just brewed at home (from Acme Coffee), and the astonishing power and gorgeous beauty of stampeding surf sent us into a wild multi-layered sensory overload, kind of a weird orgasmic experience I guess.  My heavens, it was glorious, we grinned.

After shooting pictures at the parking lot retaining wall splash zone, Pt Pinos's booming monsters promised to be impressive because of the swell coming from due west.  Towering arcs of spray were shooting left and right as the 20-foot waves smacked the ragged granite. The ground shook. 

After the Pavels Bakerei treats, we had to move and took off on a long walk along the boardwalk that skirts the Asilomar shore all the way to Spanish Bay, uphill to Asilomar Conference grounds and then back along the shore to the car.  I saw the MetLife blimp buzzing overhead in the distance.  The golf fans watching action on the three courses in play for the AT&T had paid lots of money for that privilege, but our show was intensely spectacular and, best of all, it was free.