A weathered, gray-haired guy lugging a weathered black guitar case and a black folding chair lumbers up. No place else has its swirl, its mix of redwood-shadowed, wave-washed natural beauty and its alchemic blend of residents and visitors — the surfers at Steamer Lane, the guitar strummers and sculptors, the UC Santa Cruz marine scientists, the getting-sunburned-crowds-screaming at the thrill rides on the Boardwalk, the solitary sunset hiker at Natural Bridges State Beach, peering out into Monterey Bay and thinking, Is that a whale?