Why “Opinions Vary” — And Why Stillness Matters
Listen to the Andrew Dickson on KQED
Last week, KQED Perspectives aired a short but powerful interview with Andrew Dickson — owner of Napa Valley Paddle and guide of bioluminescence tours — under the title “Opinions Vary.” In just a few minutes on public radio, Andrew reminded listeners why nature and shared outdoor spaces still matter in a world full of competing views and endless noise.
There’s a line he referenced from the movie Road House: “Opinions vary.” It’s a small phrase that speaks volumes — especially right now. On the water, away from screens and chatter, our rush to decide “who’s right” fades, and something quieter, deeper, and more essential comes forward.
The Bay That Speaks
In the interview, Andrew describes a night on Tomales Bay where:
- The wind finally eased,
- The stars emerged, and
- The bay began to glow.
He talked about the sound that greets you past Hog Island — not pigs, but thousands of double-crested cormorants packed so densely in the trees that their calls transform into an unfamiliar, otherworldly chorus. [SOURCE LINK TO KQED]
It’s the kind of experience that doesn’t make sense until you’re there — until you’ve felt the tide rise around your kayak in total silence, broken only by birds and breath.
Love Before Ownership
What stood out most in Andrew’s message was this truth:
People protect what they love. And people don’t fall in love with places through permits, signage or labels. They fall in love through experience — through stories, effort and moments that stay with them.
In the age of debates and divisions, that feels like a radical statement. Ownership has rules; love doesn’t.
And yet the way we protect our shared places — from Tomales Bay to the Napa River — is rooted in connection, not control.
Shared Places — Shared Responsibility
Andrew’s message isn’t just about one bay, one boat, or one set of stars overhead. It’s about the idea that places don’t belong to any single person — but somehow they belong to all of us.
That’s a perspective worth returning to, especially in outdoor communities like ours.
Because when we stop to listen — whether it’s to a cormorant colony at night or the quiet lapping of water on a paddle — we understand something bigger than any opinion.
We understand respect.
We understand stewardship.
And we understand why stillness still matters.
🌊 Experience It For Yourself
Reading about stillness is one thing.
Feeling it on the water is something else entirely.
Join us on Tomales Bay or the Carneros Estuary and experience the quiet, the glow, and the wild beauty that reminds you what really matters.
