Bedwell Bayfront Park

July 22, 2011 § 1 Comment

On Sunday I went on a hike with one of my fabulous sisters-in-law and my adorable 7-year old niece. I’d been wanting to explore this strange, hilly little park on the edge of the bay in Menlo Park. I had seen the park for years near my work but had never taken the time to explore it.

Bedwell Bayfront Park

It’s called Bedwell Bayfront Park. I don’t think many people know about it; there was hardly anyone there. It’s where Marsh Road dead-ends at the bay, but there’s nothing else really out there, so you’d never know about it unless you intended to go there. I like that. Living in the Bay Area means dealing with lots of people much of the time, and finding a place this wide open is a rare thing.

At the pier

Part of the park is bordered by salt ponds. The water is allowed to evaporate, leaving salt crystals. The water that is left turns this eery shade of rusty pink, and the beaches are rimmed with salt, not sand. It’s pretty cool.

Kneeling at the salt beach

salt beach

I’m not much of a hiker. Walking around in the hot, dry sun, up and down hills, seems like some sort of torture to me–not like a good time. (Add a margarita, a good book, and plunk me in an air-conditioned dune buggy with cushy seats–now you’re talking!)

But I sit for a living, and my ass looks like I sit all day, so I’m trying to spend a little more time outdoors walking around. Luckily, we had cool, cloudy weather the morning of our hike. The clouds were just beginning to break when we were leaving.

That’s when we met local artists Kim Holl and Alice Weil working on some oil paintings.

Two artists

I’m fascinated by artists. I’m intrigued by their gift of expression. I’ve worked with illustrators all my life as part of my job as an editor. Artistic folks really do see the world through different eyes.

artist and hills

And they get to play with their work.

Paint

It was a fun morning. I actually might try it again on another Sunday morning. I could always pack a margarita in a water bottle, right?

Oh duh, what am I thinking? Sunday mornings are for mimosas, not margaritas!

Join me?

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