Sunday, October 06, 2013
I’ve been living on the fat of my California photo safari for at least two months and there's no end in sight. And today I’m riding the rapture of West Marin yet again, this time in living color.
West Marin, essentially the coastal part of a famously liberal, educated, wealthy, eat organic county just across the Golden Gate from San Francisco, boasts of attributes that weaken my knees. The mighty Pacific, farm and sea to table cuisine, a rich wine aesthetic and pastures literally kissing the surf promote palpitations and labored breathing in old people.
BMW socialists aside, West Marin is a trove photographic wonders some of which appear herein and with minimal commentary. And here’s a precocious little Russian River Pinot Noir while we’re at it.