“I hope the pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.”

That’s a line from The Shawshank Redemption, the second-best movie ever made. It was set in cold, rainy Maine. The best move ever made, Pulp Fiction, was set in warm, sunny Los Angeles.

I left cold, snowy Minnesota this morning, and now I’m in L.A. It was really difficult to sit on the beach just outside of Santa Monica this afternoon, and by “difficult” I mean “unbelievably easy.” The water was cold, but that didn’t matter, as the air was balmy. I relaxed and let the sun’s rays add color to my flesh and soul to my body.

Three weeks ago, I had never been to California. Since that time, I’ve been there twice; once to San Francisco and once to Los Angeles. From what I’ve seen of L.A., I much prefer the San Francisco Bay area.

San Francisco, the city itself, reminds me of Duluth, Minnesota: it’s hilly, it’s next to a huge body of very cold water, and it has a neat bridge. The landscape around the “Paris of the West” hints of my two favorite earthly locations: Minnesota’s North Shore and Switzerland’s Jungfrau region. They all boast big trees, frigid water, huge rocks, and rugged terrain.

In contrast, L.A. has smog. I think there are hills around it, but I can’t really see them because of all the haze. The area around Malibu is pretty, but it just doesn’t move me like the aforementioned three places. The one redeeming characteristic that L.A. shares with those magical locales is the water.

Few things are as relaxing as staring out over a huge body of water, one so large that it is impossible to see land on the other side. Lake Superior is large enough. So is the Pacific. When I fix my gaze on the horizon, a horizon that seems impossibly distant, all of my problems seem insignificant. They fade from conscious thought, mothballed for later contemplation. It’s hypnotic in a way, conducive to meditation. The infinite horizon, the repetitive crashing of the waves, the elegance of the shore — I love it.

Now I understand why people write about these places. Now I understand why people wax eloquent about the Pacific. Now I can place the Pacific in my own dreams.