It's not a coincidence that "Murder, She Wrote" picked Mendocino Village to pretend to be New England. (Punk would say, "There are no coincidences!" But he's a Conspiracy Chipmunk...More on that anon.)
As you can see, it's just gorgeous. This Village, every square inch of which is an Historical Preserve, is just a few miles north of us, via our lovely Route One, that lazes along the mighty Pacific across from our Inn.
We can see the Pacific from our cottage, and at this time of year, Heidi becomes obsessed with whale watching and just about drives me to distraction.
I say "just about" because it's impossible not to feel peaceful with these kind of views.
Moisture turns the Mendocino Coast into another kind of paradise, returns it to a primeval Redwood Rainforest -- filled with mushrooms, lush mosses, verdant glades -- all beneath the hushed, sacred beauty of some of the Earth's oldest trees.
Come see for yourself if you don't believe me.
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