|The view from the motel room window in southern California|
After all the festivities, we left Sunday morning for the long drive north back to the family beach house in Capitola. We hit a traffic jam that was literally the worst we had ever been in (and it wasn't even in southern California!). We crawled along at three miles an hour for more than an hour. It was absolutely insane, with no end in sight. We kept thinking that there had to be some kind of really bad accident that would create such a mind-numbing slowdown. Fortunately, we were able to pull off the highway and take a different route to the coast. We stopped for gas, and while Roger was filling the tank, I ran into the convenience store to ask what was going on. The cashier said, "Oh that's the traffic from the Red Barn Sunday flea market." WHAT? She said, "It happens every Sunday. There's only about five miles more of it." I couldn't believe that a flea market could cause such a traffic jam. I'm not even sure how that's possible, or why it's permitted to persist in such a thoroughly rotten way. I googled "flea market highway 101 traffic" and found that a lot of people have been complaining for years about this. I plan to write a letter. Seriously dangerous situation there.
|The earth's shadow and Monterey Bay|
On our first day home, the sky gave us a day of halos. We waved and shouted, "hello halo," and were so glad to be back.
Don't we live on a spectacular planet?