Let me tell you something about February in Rocky Point: it’s the month when the sea reminds us of what love actually is. Not the greeting card version (though those are sweet too), but the real thing – the kind that shows up at dawn, that surprises you over shrimp tacos, that makes your heart expand when you least expect it.
Whether you’re here with your person, searching for your people, or perfectly content with your own company, this Valentine’s Day isn’t about what you don’t have. It’s about what you’re willing to open your heart to. So here are fourteen invitations to fall in love – with moments, with strangers, with this place, with yourself, with being alive.
1. Say yes to three Spanish words
Pick three. Buenos días. Gracias. Delicioso. Use them at the market, the beach, the little tienda on the corner. Watch what happens when you try. This is how strangers become neighbors, how tourists become travelers, how you fall in love with a place one word at a time.
2. Take the moonscape drive
Drive three hours around the Pinacate volcano, where astronauts trained for moon walks. Pack provisions, bring someone worth three hours of conversation with, and let the landscape remind you how big the world is.
3. Hunt for treasures at low tide
Set your alarm for stupid-early and go to the tide pools when the sea pulls back farther than you thought possible. Bring coffee. Go alone. Watch hermit crabs conduct their morning business. (Want to share this magic with kids? My book *The Sea That Wouldn’t Stay Put* shows this incredible tidal journey and all the treasures waiting.)
4. Follow the day from sunrise to stars
Start with sunrise breakfast at Laguna Shores Resort – take your time, make friends with the new day. Spend the day however it wants to be spent. End with dinner at Encántame Resort as the sun melts into the water.
5. Wander without a map
Get deliberately lost on Rodeo Drive. Duck into shops you’ve walked past a hundred times. Buy something small from someone whose face you’ll remember. This is how you discover that getting lost is just another way of being found.
6. Go fishing for more than fish
Fishermen are philosophers who happen to carry poles. Hire a boat. They’ll teach you knots and wisdom about tides and life. You might catch a fish. You’ll definitely catch perspective and a good story.
7. Dance like someone’s watching (because they are)
Live music happens here like breathing – beach bars, the Malecon at sunset, random corners where guitars appear. Here’s your challenge: start dancing. By yourself. Really moving. See how long it takes before you’re not alone anymore.
8. Share a movie in translation
The theater shows films in English with Spanish subtitles or dubbed. Go see something you wouldn’t normally choose. Sit among strangers. Laugh at the same jokes even though you heard them in different languages. That moment when the whole theater reacts together. That’s what we’re all looking for.
9. Let the sunset make you quiet
Book a sunset cruise and actually watch the sunset. Put the phone away – just for those twenty minutes when the sky does impossible things. If you’re with someone, don’t talk. Just hold hands and witness it together. If you’re alone, let yourself feel the full weight of that beauty.
10. Walk the Malecon like you belong there
Because you do. Buy paletas from the cart. Watch pelicans commit to their dives with absolute faith. Smile at strangers. Be part of the beautiful parade of humans doing the simple work of being present.
11. Gamble on connection
The casino isn’t really about winning. It’s about the collective hope when someone gets lucky, about the strange intimacy of strangers rooting for each other. Go with modest expectations and open hearts.
12. Breakfast with someone new
Sit down next to a stranger at a coffee shop and start a conversation. Everyone has a story about how they ended up here. Ask. Listen. This is how breakfast becomes communion, how strangers become the best part of your day.
13. Count stars instead of worries
After midnight, find your patch of beach and look up. Way up. The darkness here reveals what city lights hide – the Milky Way sprawling like someone threw diamonds at velvet. Bring a blanket, bring yourself, and your sense of wonder. Let the universe make you feel small in the best possible way.
14. Watch what returns
Here’s what the Sea of Cortez teaches better than anywhere: tides go out, and tides come back. Always. Sit on the beach and watch the water return after it’s been gone for hours. Think about what that means – about things that leave and come back, about rhythms we can trust, about how nothing beautiful stays away forever.
So, this February, I’m not wishing you romance (though if you find it, wonderful). I’m wishing you openness. I’m wishing you the courage to say yes to small moments and big skies, to strangers who might become friends, to yourself exactly as you are right now. I’m wishing you the wisdom to know that love isn’t something you find – it’s something you practice, something you choose, something you become.
Rocky Point is waiting. The sea is here. The question isn’t whether love will find you.
The question is: what are you willing to fall in love with?
