Olema is about an hour north of San Fransisco, and our predetermined meeting place with Dwayne’s oldest brother’s family. I had the sense it was right on the beach, but the terrain is such that the most direct route is akin to a Family Circus cartoon.
But Dan and Deborah had their eight passenger minivan (Mama loves minivans!), and our adventures began with a sunset beach visit. The kids and I had not gotten “we-didn’t-mean-to-get-that-drenched-in-the-waves” wet for days by this time, so we took full advantage of the darkness to scare ourselves silly and get our pants embarrassingly soaked.
Esther, not getting herself or camera soaked, surprised us with some beautiful shots.
We didn’t try too hard to accomplish much. We see them so rarely that just being together was enough. We did go down to the beach one afternoon to play and study tidepools, where the kids collected shells and got lost in their own world.
I love that Dwayne got to hang with his brother…and build more cairns.
Olema turned out to be significant, as Sunday night was big, unexpected, lightening storm that sparked forest fires in northern CA. We woke up in the wee-est of hours, Dwayne immediately remembering the awning, and I texting our tent-dwelling family. The storm encompassed all my senses, and I would have found curled up next to Dwayne in the motorhome to be the coziest spot if I hadn’t been so worried about all our tenting neighbors, especially Dan, Deborah, and Esther. The rains continued the next morning in earnest as we all packed up. It was a rushed ending to a gloriously slow-paced weekend with beloved family and tasty gelato.
Needopedia 