With the promise of making it down to Santa Cruz in the afternoon and the weather miraculously clearing up, Ted took me on his daily hike in the nearby redwoods. Clearcut a century ago to quarry lime, you would neve guess you could have seen much sky, the place is so lush. The rainfall made the creek strong and confident, singing in many voices like a low-fequency Tuvan throat-singer. Ted shared his Zen spots and pointed out a colorful fungi and a little shrine. Instead of a spectacle that takes your breath away, like a roaring waterfall or a dusky mountain, a forest seeps into your soul and becomes your breath. You become an instant in the life of those moss-robed trees, but at the same time the most significant instant.

The microclimates are myriad here, though. Twenty minutes away from what could practically be the Olympic Penninsula was the sunny, surfing downtown Santa Cruz. The main street was designed for pedestrians, with sidewalks big enough to put food kiosks and outdoor seating in he middle of them. Students and musically inclined homeless made the place more than a shopping district, though it was lined with eco-friendly botiques and cafes. The spirit is environmentally- and socially-consious, and I was lucky enough to be there for the year-round farmer’s market, a foodie’s dream, sporting local organic produce from oranges to kale to walnuts, and fresh almond milk, sorbet, and saurkraut. I filled up on samples and stuffed me bag before heading down to the beach.

I remembered the warf from my previous visit, a long boardwalk with shops and restaurants at the end, and seagulls and pelicans and surf bums and homeless bums. Children played on the sand and surfers bobbed in the waves waiting for the next good ride to shore. The eucalyptus and orange trees shaded townhouses, beach cottages, and mission-style architecture along the side streets.

Reluctantly I got on the bus back to Felton. Barbara helped me get a handle on the job and real estate market, pointing me to a place up the road from UCSC where there’s abundant farmland where you can grow bananas, yet still on a bus route. You can also rent little studio cottages right in town for reasonable rates — a great idea for testing the waters if only anyone was hiring!

It could just be the unseasonable sunshine, but this place could be the place. Yet knowing that I have found it makes the search less urgent, because I know I can come back here someday. I know my little half acre will be waiting for me.