Say hello to my little friend. He is some sort of woodpecker. My nickname for him was Rojo Loco, or Crazy Red, for his crimson head and that devious look in his eye.

Señor Loco was hanging out - with about a million other birds - in the backyard of the Brewery Gulch Inn in Mendocino, California. The late afternoon sun was giving just enough warmth to sit outside comfortably in a sweater, and multiple flowers, feeders and baths were drawing birds from seemingly everywhere.

I took their pictures shortly after we arrived.

Mendocino is a quiet little town about three hours drive north of San Francisco, along some of the most spectacular coastal scenery in the world. The route from the city takes you through the Anderson Valley wine region. A bit further north and you are deep in the redwoods. It is a singularly lovely place for a winter retreat.

It is also where Marissa and I spent a night - at the very same inn - almost 20 years ago, on a road trip down the coast from Seattle. A lot has happened in the two decades since, but the area - and my wife - is still just as lovely.

Señor Loco - and the rest of the guests of the inn - enjoyed this view:

It was Christmas weekend. I didn't have more than a day of vacation time left, which meant a trip to see family was out of the question. We don't have children, so nobody was expecting Santa. But we wanted to do something. So we opted for seclusion, a getaway. We haven't had this kind of trip in a long time:

Get up slowly. Eat a made-to-order breakfast prepared by the inn's chef. Stroll along the Mendocino Headlands, listening to the waves crash below you while the breeze kisses your eyes and the sun caresses your cheeks. Contemplate your happy insignificance. Head back to the inn for a light lunch on the deck, taking pictures of the birds as they alternately flirt with you and give you the stink-eye. Putter around the giant fireplace while you wait for dinner, again prepared by the inn's own chef and served with your choice of wine from a world-class Anderson Valley winery. Read, for a long time, sitting by the fire. Go to bed. Sleep. Repeat.

I've decided I am a big fan of a secluded Christmas getaway. I am definitely a fan of the Northern California Coast, Mendocino in particular, and the Brewery Gulch Inn. All of this has given me an idea. Maybe, just maybe, this should become our holiday tradition. Like Señor Loco and his fine-feathered compadres, perhaps we will return to this idyllic spot each year. We will do it to feast, on the view, the food, the wine, and the feeling that it is good to be alive.