Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Wordless Wednesday: Prickly Plant Life

Our backyard artichoke
Thistle
Artichoke flowering
Agave
Teasel


Monday, July 18, 2016

River Otter


We had an interesting encounter with a river otter out at the marsh on Sunday. We've seen them out there a couple of times over the years, but this one was definitely not behaving the way we've seen them in the past.
A few days ago we arrived at the marsh and ran into a friend in the parking lot who was just leaving. She said, "There's a mama river otter with her baby in the brackish pond. They've been coming up and going down, swimming around, and carrying on. It's great. Go see them, don't miss it." Well, we headed off in a different direction and planned on looping the brackish pond at the end of the walk as we always do. When we got there only the young otter was around. It was definitely behaving in standard otter fashion, coming up to the surface, looking around, and then heading under the water. I wished I had gotten a photo of it, but it was too busy and hungrily active for a good shot.
Well, we headed back out to the marsh on Sunday. It was quiet out there. So quiet the only photos I had taken by the end of the walk was of thistle flowers. Not much wildlife; the tide was in, and that was that. We did our usual walk, and were heading back to the car when I looked at the small tidal pond where a GIANT transmission tower stands. That's when I saw it. It appeared to be a young-ish (or simply smallish) river otter, just hanging out and not doing its usual exuberant fish hunt.
I took some photos of it and managed to get a short 30 second video. In the video I notice that it closed its eyes for a bit. It was more motionless than I expect a river otter to be. It made eye contact with us, followed our voices and whistles. Now I'm wondering if the creature is not well, hungry, tired, or just young and unsure of humans.


If you make the video full-screen, you can really see its closed eyes. What do you think?

PS-- The water where the otter is swimming is a rather bizarre color because of weird muddy silt that's always there. Also, the patterns on the water are skypools of the windy wavy transmission tower reflection and maybe some clouds.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Words on a Wednesday


Many bridges to cross
Somehow the violent events of the past few months have made me feel very contemplative. I wrote a few words down about my own life and read them over the phone to my wonderful 90 year-old mother. She said, "Oh Robin, you should put that on the computer." I told her I would post it here and maybe a put a link on Facebook.

This is what I read to her:

...I was born
brown in a white country
jewish in a christian country
atheist among believers
socialist among capitalists
dreamer among consumers
poet among hunters
pacifist among warriors
idealist among pragmatists
earth-lover among plunderers

and still I wake up every morning excited to see the sunrise...

Then, for some reason it made me think of the lyrics “And when I die” by Laura Nyro (that I slightly edited!).

"…And when I die and when I'm dead, dead and gone
There'll just be one child less
In our world to carry on, to carry on…"

Monday, July 11, 2016

Another Minus Tide Walk

Last month we took a minus tide walk at Trinidad Beach. When I went to write about it a few days later, the murder of 49 people had just happened at The Pulse in Orlando. While I tried to write that post, it was hard to remember the beauty while contemplating the violence in our country. And here we are a month later with the sad coincidence of a minus tide and more raging gun violence. On the morning we had planned a walk at Luffenholz Beach we woke to the news of yet another brutal shooting. We went for the walk anyway and found solace in our beautiful natural world. So, come take this walk with us, and see how we forget the sad tug at our hearts and turn our eyes on the pull of the tides.
Houda Cove is about a 15 minute drive from our house, and a five minute hike down some stairs and steep bluff trail. The entrance to this beach is so perfectly dramatic for what we are about to see.
This is Camel Rock (or Little River Rock) only approachable at a minus tide. It is splendid to walk to it.

In every direction we turn is something that takes our breath away and makes us walk over for closer looks.
We see more anemones here than we've seen anywhere else. Lots of seastars too. This rock was teeming with life. Such a lovely balance to the news.
We love the colors of these anemones so much, just had to zoom in for a better look.
We were just giggling with delight when we had this encounter with a crab that had a seastar on its back. "Hello," we said, but it just gave us that crabby look.

The closeup views of life on this beach made us so happy. It was the perfect balance to the madness in the world. We turned our eyes back to the bigger view.
On this day the fog hugged Trinidad Head in the most lovely way. I wondered what it might have been like to be there in that fog. What would Houda Cove have looked like from there?
The fog came in and blew out, over and over. Changing the light and the scenery so dramatically.
We walked and walked, taking it all in, leaving the world behind us as we ventured on.
We wanted to forget our country and its violence, and we did while we were out there. We left with gratitude in our hearts for what our beautiful planet offers us.

And then, on Friday we woke to the news of five police officers being shot at a demonstration protesting violence. Oh America, please stop.

Wednesday, July 06, 2016