I quickly grabbed my coffee and ran outside in a panic, climbed to the roof of the camper to see if it was all a nightmare. Sure enough, the roof was covered in white. But it had a strange dry, rubbery feel to it. I guessed that I was going to be OK after all.

Since I was now outside – with my coffee, it only made sense to wander the 20 feet to the overnight high-tide line and check out what the morning had to offer. It was calm and you could hear the ripples as fish broke the surface just offshore as they fed or avoided enemies. The doves back in the brush called mournfully. It was morning, but I don’t know whether they are morning doves, or mourning doves (Garry?). A group of vultures huddled down the shore admiring what had washed up overnight, and the coyote who had earlier announced his presence fell silent. And the great Mexican hunting cat ventured out the camper door to see what adventures the morning held.

I had been watching the CBC news about the snow storms in Newfoundland, and the roofs collapsing in Quebec because of the snow load when the flashback occurred. I had already shovelled off the roof of the camper at home at least twice before I was granted bail, - er, vacation.

It was minus 12 in Calgary this morning, and considerably colder in the north.

Fortunately, my reality included sandals, a lawn chair with ocean view, and a still-warm bonfire from last nite, and the sun just peeking over the mountains to get things heated up for the day.

Harley faced off with a vulture spreading it’s wings from the top of a tall cactus; each wondering what the other would taste like.

It was truly serene again, having moved camp out from the relative (and I do stress relative!) hustle-bustle of the campground on the mainland of Baja to the outer peninsula where it had been so peaceful last week. This time tho, we came in a convoy of trucks, me leading the others who did not know how to get to this side of the bay. One, who had been wishing for a trip over here since 1981, made it to the light tower at the very tip on his quad. Harley and I stayed behind on the beach when the rest went back to the campground.

I felt really bad for the people of Newfoundland, battling the blizzard – as I searched out shade to kick back and relax. I was so relaxed and stressed that I pulled out a Canadian Geographic magazine to read. It helped to cool me as it had a photo of an ice-breaker and an ice flow on the cover. I guess it has been riding around in the camper for a while waiting for this moment, as it was the JanuaryFebruary 2007 edition!

I had never seen the Bahia quite so calm at mid-day, but inevitably just when I attempted a flight with the CX2, a refreshing breeze came up off the water.

It is starting to get just a touch hot at times down here, so I may have to consider migrating a bit further north soon.

But not now. It is siesta time.