Tag Archives: pelican

A beach stroll some years ago…

3 Replies

One of the perks of visiting my former dentist was that I got to take a walk on the nearby beach afterwards if so inclined, which somehow seemed to be every single time I had an appointment.

Thus, parking the car and walking across the road past the dune grass protecting the beach, I see the fog rolling over the hills above the city in the distance as it likes to do. Rather polite, not intruding on the East Bay today. Taking off my sandals as I reach the beach, I walk down to the water’s edge. The small rhythmic sloshing waves make for a lullaby sound. On my left several seagulls are napping on the sand, occasionally opening an eye to make sure my distance to their resting position is adequate. A few deem it necessary to increase that distance by flying up and landing a few feet further away. Just to make sure I suppose, perhaps having been privy to the occasional unwelcome encounter or being chased.

The morning sun is coming out now on this side of the bay. Very few people are out and about this morning as it is a weekday. A sandpiper hastens it’s walk as I draw near, the tiny thin legs almost a blur. The smell of sand and the salty bay are a delight to the senses. My toes and feet are happy too, unencumbered by footwear.

As I turn around to walk back I see the rhythmic waves permeated by sunlight as they roll gently onto the shore. It is mesmerizing translucent light. I stop to watch. It reminds me of the time I was on an island off the coast of Venezuela, where my son Patrick and I walked on pure white sand and saw thousands upon thousand of seashells with a turquoise equatorial sea as the backdrop.

As if on cue, a brown pelican approaches, gliding effortlessly about a foot above the water right past me to snap me back to reality. What a humorous creation. God had fun with that one, although the fish may have a different opinion on that.

A March Friday

2 Replies

It is comforting to see normal March weather for California again after the bone-dry months of January and February. Thank God we got some rain in the fall. What is typical beginning of March weather you ask? Green hills, yellow mustard blooming profusely on said same hills, many fruit trees professing their white, magenta, and pink blossoms. Most of all though it the sudden change of weather, where dark clouds pushed by a brisk wind arrive quickly, empty themselves of rain, only to give way to puffy white clouds with a blue sky and sunshine behind them. This frequent exchange of clouds delights our spring, and it is advisable for the nature enthusiast to carry an umbrella.

The first flower of an Iceland poppy I planted in a pot came up about a week ago. This particular one was a bright yellow-orange and radiated color. Sadly it has already lost it’s petals now due a merciless wind coming off the mountain. We are also supposed to get some more rain tomorrow, perhaps even a storm – or atmospheric river – the current buzzword favored by the meteorologists. We shall see. Rain here equals snow in the Sierras, so a win-win for this time of year, except for my poppy.

Having picked up an almond croissant from the bakery – a café au lait was already in my possession – I drove down to the pier in Benicia to look at the water and and enjoy the aforementioned items. The wind whipping outside, I thought it wise to remain in the car with the window cracked a bit to take advantage of the fresh air, and at the same time protecting my croissant from many hungry eyes and beaks outside. Indeed, the pier is frequented by a multitude of pigeons, flocks of seagulls, ducks, ravens, and sparrows, all hoping for something to eat with minimal effort. I have even seen pelicans on a small island nearby. Numerous signs advise not to feed the feathered pier dwellers – much to the annoyance of the birds no doubt.

There – that was one tasty croissant, and I even managed not to make a mess in the car. Taking a stroll along the pier I notice a woman dumping something on the ground. Unclear of what it might be, the question answers itself a moment later, when a mad rush among all things feathered erupts to eat what I presume is bird seed. Birds and humans unable or unwilling to read the sign make for this frenzied spectacle. It is over in a matter of minutes, with the last ones to hang out being the pigeons, in making sure not a single seed is left behind. I do hope your next meal will have more of a slow food pace to it, somewhat less competition, and with perhaps some better table manners too.

Have a blessed weekend