When I close my eyes, I can still picture the most magical moment of my year. But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

Sunday

San Francisco is having one of those days I love: the sky is a blanket of blue stretching across the city, uninterrupted, and it’s the kind of day that reminds you how incredible the Golden Gate Bridge is, all gleaming orange metal spanning the Bay from San Francisco to Sausalito. I keep my head turned toward the window, winding the glass down at intervals to take pictures as we zip past the city and onto the bridge that will carry us out of it.

When we arrive at our destination, the Sea Ranch Lodge, the once-blue sky is now a dim grey, completely obscuring the cliffs and the coastline I know is there. Regardless, I am struck by how beautiful the lodge and its surroundings are. All the buildings are clad in exposed weathered wood that mirrors the bark of the trees circling the property. Whoever designed this place was careful; they wanted the built environment to complement the land rather than overtake it. The result is this charming, rustic enclave that feels like a perfect marriage between outside and in. 

At the check-in desk, the concierge, Gaby, welcomes us warmly before taking us through two maps of the property: one detailing where our rooms are in relation to other amenities, and another outlining the walking trails and details for a guided tour. 

I would find out later that Gaby, in collaboration with my now fiancé (LB), handed me a map of the property he created to make me think there was an official walking tour. He knows me well, because I immediately decide we will go on the tour the next day, blissfully unaware that this was when he planned to propose.

We spend the hours between arrival and dinner playing Monopoly on iPad, dancing, and singing in between turns, as music from a playlist LB curated fills the room. We’re both just happy to be here, and we tell each other that much, saying how we love this place already, and how we know it is somewhere we will return to again and again. 

As twilight hour settles over the coast, we walk a few feet from our room to have dinner in the solarium, a sunroom with large floor-to-ceiling windows that face the ocean and grassy bluff, both of which are now clearly visible with the dissipating fog. 

Our meal is a spread of cold oysters on the half shell, creamy cacio e pepe pasta, and braised short rib served on a bed of velvety polenta. It’s all very California—a simple, fresh, farm-to-table spread. But more importantly, it’s delicious, and I immediately want to go back to a time when we hadn’t eaten it yet so we can experience it all over again.

After dinner, we walk out to the patio to watch the sun dip beneath the horizon in a burst of orange, leaving cool evening blues in its place. 

Monday

I wake up to the tapping sound of LB working on his laptop. It’s 7 am, and the sky is a muted gradient of color: soft blues, lavender, a little pink. I’m awake because we planned to be, to watch sunrise from the window in our room, and while it’s too early for me to speak in full sentences, it’s perfect timing to sit quietly and watch the day arrive. 

We spend the morning working side by side, right by the exposed window. Having a computer open in this place feels a little wrong, but I try to focus on the fact that I could be working in San Francisco, and instead, I get to work with the ocean in my peripheral vision, and when I look up from my screen, right at eye level.

Outside on one of the coastal trails, the landscape is even more dramatic–rocky cliffs and rolling hills form a natural barrier between land and sea, blue-green waves swim back and forth, leaving bubbly white pools in their wake. In the distance, whales break the surface, and I watch through binoculars with my mouth open in utter surprise. 

Around lunchtime, we leave the property to eat at a nearby seafood restaurant in Gualala. Except for the shop associate who attends to us, it’s empty when we arrive, so we order immediately, and in a few minutes, the buzzer vibrates to let us know our food is ready. Again, the food is fresh and tasty. Hot, thinly cut, perfectly seasoned fries served alongside crispy, breaded, fried fish. 

We get back just in time to finish our work day and start getting ready for the evening. LB puts on an Afrobeats playlist, and soon my attention is split between blending my makeup and dancing to some of my favorite songs.

It is at this point I realize that our initial plan—dress for dinner so we can leave from the walking tour—isn’t feasible because I have planned to wear a floor-length dress.

When I bring this up to LB, he tries to convince me (not hard enough because I still don’t pick up on anything here) that we won’t have time to come back and change. So I push back, thinking the opposite, and he seems to consider my stance before he has to leave the room to unplug the car from its charging point. At least, this is what he tells me. What I didn’t know was that he had gone to meet the photographer to devise a plan B, in case he couldn’t convince me to come out in my dress.

Now here’s the thing about the person I am marrying, and what I had time to think about when he left the room: he likes to surprise me, just as much as I like to be surprised. On our last vacation, I inadvertently disrupted his surprise, so before he returns to the room, I decide I’ll wear the dress, just in case there’s another surprise I’m currently disrupting. Did I also think about a proposal at this moment? Of course. But he went to lengths to ensure I didn’t see it coming, so I could easily dismiss it.

Now we’re both outside, and the map Gaby gave us at check-in is in my hand.

LB asks me to scan the QR code, which has been pointing to a different site until now, in case I happened to scan it, to reveal the first part of his proposal: a beautifully-written compilation, filled with pictures, capturing the last four years of our love. It takes me a few moments to compute what is happening, but when I do, time slows, and everything blurs behind my falling tears. 

He takes my arm in his, and we walk connected at the elbow, out to the cliffs. As we stroll, he reads “our story” out loud to me, and now the tears fall in a steady stream down my face. Crying is the only way I can express how I’m feeling: overwhelmed by how thoughtful, how sincere, how heartwarming all of this is.

When I say a teary “yes” to “will you marry me?” it is an echo of all the yeses I have said to arrive at this point; an echo of a yes I have said in my heart multiple times already.

Around us, sunset colors the sky in swaths of pale blue and yellow. A photographer appears seemingly out of nowhere, and laughter breaks through my crying. She introduces herself with a bright smile, her own excitement evident in the warm wishes tumbling from her mouth. She walks with us around the property, snapping photos as we talk and gently guiding us into easy, relaxed poses. 

In the midst of all of this, my brain is still lagging, slowly trying to catch up to the present, but I don’t need to catch up to know that I’m happy. I’m happy to be engaged to the love of my life. And to mark this moment in California—our home, where we met almost 8 years ago, where we fell in love—makes it all the more special.

***

Postscript: My first time visiting Sea Ranch was on a road trip with LB, and our friends Tas and Sandra. We were driving up to Mendocino and decided to stop in a few cities along the way; Sea Ranch was one of them. I was enamored then, and even before we left, I knew we would come back. So when LB and I were planning our October travel, I suggested we visit Sea Ranch. It would be perfect, I thought, for an early fall getaway. I couldn’t have imagined just how perfect.

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Good to Know

• This was a road trip like any other before I found out it wasn’t, so I’ll still share in the Good to Know section in case you want to plan a trip to Sea Ranch. If you’d like help with planning, check out The Same Footprints Guide.

• How we got there: We drove from San Francisco. With some traffic, it took about 3.5 hours. Parts of this drive feature windy, circuitous roads, so you’ll want to prepare for relief in advance if you get motion sick. 

• Where we stayed: The Sea Ranch Lodge. This place is stunning, but even if you don’t stay there, you can access the restaurants for meals and walk on the trails.

• Where we ate: We ate most of our meals at The Sea Ranch Lodge. You’ll want to plan meals carefully here, as there are limited options outside of the lodge, and everything is a drive away. The Seafood Shack in Gualala is a solid option for fish tacos and fish and chips.

• Bonus recommendations: If you have time on your drive up the coast, I also recommend visiting other small towns like Gualala, Point Reyes, and Bodega Bay. 
• Thank you to Analee, the photographer who captured this experience so perfectly for us.

As always, 

Thank you for reading!

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Same Footprints, Different Sands