House of sand and fog

First, the post I had planned to write.

Fog had rolled in by the time I returned to Moss Landing. "What perfect weather," I thought, "for a bowl of clam chowder." So I drove up to Phil's for an early dinner. "Some shrimp would be nice, too." It was an excellent meal.

Afterward, I settled into a different location than last night, farther down the road, away from the houses, just outside the state beach, overlooking the slough and dunes. It was and excellent spot.

Now, as Paul Harvey used to say, the rest of the story.

I had shut things down for the night and was in bed, in the dark, when a car pulled up behind the Rolling Steel Tent. I recognized the shape of Dodge Charger headlights and figured it was the law. The doors opened, illuminating two guys in uniform. Yup. So I quickly pulled on my pants, turned on the lights and opened the side door.

"I guess you want me to leave."

"Yes. We need to keep this area clear," said Sheriff's Deputy One, motioning to the state beach entry about a hundred yards away and the wide shoulder where I'd parked.

"What about up the road that way," I asked, pointing toward where I'd slept the night before.

Deputies One and Two looked at each other as if I'd asked a trick question, then came to an unspoken consensus. Deputy Two asked, "Um, you know where Lapis Road is?"

"I don't think so."

"You go back toward Marina, take the Del Monte exit..."

"Oh, the place where all the RVs are parked?"

"Yeah. You can go there. But you have to leave in the morning."

"You're just sleeping, right?" said Deputy One.

"Yes." The Deputies nodded.

A car drove by and pulled into the beach parking lot. The Deputies excused themselves.

They actually did me a favor. I'm on Lapis Road with the blessing of the Sheriff's Department. I don't need to keep a low profile. I'm not going to be rousted (again). I can totally relax. And that's excellent.