See Big Sur's beauty through a unique 'window'

Jess Ellis Knubis must have been reading my mind when he went into the recording studio.

I don't know this multitalented musician, but it turns out his tunes are the perfect antidote to my hyperactive lifestyle. A few strains of a cut from "Sanctuary" and I am even. I am steady. I am instantly relaxed.

Too bad I didn't know about Knubis' work until just recently. And too bad it had been so long since I visited the place to which this particular CD was alluding: the mountainous region called Big Sur, an impossibly majestic retreat balanced above the jagged edge of the northern California coast that causes everyone who visits to become awestruck.

Our destination in this incredible part of the world was called Ventana, a memorable resort my 19-year-old immediately dubbed Nirvana.

He's right. The minute I slipped out of my shoes to snuggle under a fuzzy lap blanket in front of a blazing fire, I was suddenly stress free. The only sounds came from Knubis' "Sanctuary" CD, which I listened to over and over.

My husband, Paul, and son, Tyler, came in and out of our room, excitedly telling me about all the woodsy trails and about a rare bald eagle they swore they saw and about the hotel's clothing-optional area -- but I refused to budge. I was happy to stay put in my private splendor.

When my two guys realized I wasn't going to stray, they lured me out to our deck, which I did just in time to watch a doe grazing with her twin fawns less than 50 feet away. She had her family and I had mine, both of us happy with the circumstances that brought us together.

For our part, this was not the case a mere two hours earlier. We had been driving for hours along winding roads and bickering came with the territory. But when we spotted the mighty Pacific as we closed in on our destination, the fighting stopped and the oohs and aahs began in earnest.

Paul spotted a sea lion in the distance, so we pulled our car over to take it all in. What we witnessed was nature untouched, where the ocean crashes against the rocks and where the giant redwoods tower over the meadows as if to protect the territory.

Ventana is the essence of Big Sur, situated 1,200 feet above the Pacific and, true to its meaning (Spanish for "window"), the ideal place from which to take in the whole picture. Covering more than 243 acres of untamed land where wildlife thrives and where buildings are made of sweet-smelling cedar, this 60-room retreat makes business a pleasure (and pleasure not even relevant to anything other than what it is). I forgot my work duties, relishing in the many delights of this world-renowned hotel: the massive house library, the Allegria Spa with its array of holistic services, the on-property gallery featuring local artists and the giant Japanese hot tubs.

Forgoing the latter to luxuriate in our own personal hot tub situated at the left side of our private deck, we were quickly rejuvenated from our long drive. Our plan that night was to get dressed up and then hike to the celebrated Cielo restaurant about an eighth of a mile from our accommodations; instead, garbed in Ventana robes, we decided to hang loose and order in. Happy with our decision, we savored the roasted vegetables that were farm fresh and the specially rubbed filet mignon that melted in our mouths. We did the same with the tiramisu.

After we ate, Paul and I sat and talked about where we were and how happy it made us. Then I drifted off to sleep, only to wake up fresh and feisty, grabbing my laptop so as not to wake Paul as I attacked my work with fervor. Actually, I enjoyed the drill, allowing myself a few short breaks in order to sneak out the back door to revel in the fresh air and the simple beauty of Ventana's woodsy environs.

When Paul woke, we walked over to the main lodge for continental breakfast. Greeted by a friendly staff, we were shown a heady spread of cereals and croissants and all kinds of fresh berries. I savored every bite, prolonging the inevitable: checkout.

But that, too, came in time so the three of us faced up, simply because we had to and also because we had decided to prolong our itinerary in Big Sur by going across the street to craggy Pfeiffer Beach. The guys collected driftwood and I climbed the giant rocks that jut out of the Pacific like immense shards of precious stones. It wasn't long before I found the perfect place to sit up there on a precipice, collecting my thoughts and pondering the wonders of life while quietly watching the mesmerizing movement of the mighty sea.

For more information on the Ventana Inn & Spa, call (831) 667-2331 or visit its Web site, www.ventanainn.com.