Indian Head Beach, 25-Dec-2022


Man… It’s been ages since I’ve gone hiking around the coast. I think I avoid the ocean during the summer, thanks to the crowds, and so find myself out in the rain and fog of the winter more often than not. It’s nice – For one reason or another, I tend to associate the ocean with where I grew up…

New England doesn’t have white-sand beaches, or the gentle surf of the Gulf. The ocean in Massachusetts is harsh, and my vision of the sea is more anchored (hah!) in the vision of a salty fishing captain, with their yellow jacket and big wooden toggles, fighting to haul a lobster trap in through the lashing rain.

Today fit that vision nicely.

It was cold, it was rainy, and it was frustrating. My phone was exploding with end-of-year sales emails, well-wishing texts, and dating apps reminding me that I should be spending more time on them… ideally with a paid subscription don’t-you-know.


I quickly settled on my gift to myself. A gift, I’ll point out, that I’ve extended through to 2023… the gift of silence.

My phone set to do not disturb, I forged through the rain and fog and onto the trails.

Indian Head is beautiful – the trail winding through the thick forest of tall trees, finding itself on various beautiful overlooks gazing out over the Pacific ocean and the harsh shoreline below. I walked, I gazed, and I enjoyed the rain spray on my face and ocean smells in my nose.

The trail forged inland, and I followed to a small campsite with neat (and slightly ominous) cabins. The trail forged toward the shore, and I followed to a beautiful overlook where I relaxed and watched the waves smash into the rocks far below.

I turned around, and explored the beach near the parking lot. The light faded, the sky got dark, and I drove home.

It. Was. Lovely.


Indian Head is beautiful – the trail winding through the thick forest of tall trees, finding itself on various beautiful overlooks gazing out over the Pacific ocean and the harsh shoreline below. I walked, I gazed, and I enjoyed the rain spray on my face and ocean smells in my nose.

The trail forged inland, and I followed to a small campsite with neat (and slightly ominous) cabins. The trail forged toward the shore, and I followed to a beautiful overlook where I relaxed and watched the waves smash into the rocks far below.

I turned around, and explored the beach near the parking lot. The light faded, the sky got dark, and I drove home.

It. Was. Lovely.