Seaweed and Sea Lions

We took the puppies out for a much needed walk, and to find a beach for them to run around on. There are several beaches in the private Sea Ranch area, and interestingly, they all kind of look alike. They are all at the bottom of a rather high bluff, the only way to get down to the surf is via man-made stairs. There is always an alcove to the right of the stairs, full of various sizes of rocks, and often enough a large log which is a useful resting place. There is also tons of seaweed that has washed up on the shore.

The seaweed lurks just off the coast like a wild sea garden. One of our houseguests wondered if it was piles of garbage. Other than the occasional bulb I came across as a kid visiting the beach (and the stuff wrapped around my California rolls), I know very little about what looks like an alien creature floating in the water, lurking in plain sight. They resemble a giant octopus or squid in that there is a head and tons of "tentacles." But unlike what I imagine a live creature to do, they simply float, their "heads" sticking up out of the water, and move at the whim of the tide.

During another walk we found ourselves in a grove of trees, many of which were clinging to the bluff that surrounded a small inlet. We were sure that we were watching a seal bobbing up and down in that little area, maybe contemplating exploring one of the tiny water-made caves that we could see. We watched this thing for quite awhile before we realized it was not a sea lion head, but a seaweed bulb. This realization came just after we noticed that the mass underneath the head had several extra limbs.

We did manage to see some real, live sea lions while walking along a stretch of open bluff. They were cute and had what appeared to be normal amount of body mass, and only one tail.

On the second beach we found were piles of seaweed that had washed up on shore. And they smelled. The smell was akin to rotting flesh. Thankfully the beach was just wide enough that we could get some distance away from the largest piles, Molly and Teddy cavorted and played a bit and hubby and I sat on some large rocks. Teddy seems to love being near the ocean, but he also gets nervous when he is there more than a little while. Molly tends to go with the flow more. We sat for awhile on a pile of rocks until a family came down the stairs, with their dog on leash. Two pre-pubescent boys and one young girl proceeded to explore the bottom of the bluff and let the waves wash over their feet while mom held the dog on a long leash.

They were at the opposite end of our little alcove of a beach, so we watched them for awhile, keeping Molly and Teddy on-leash. Things got a bit dicey when all three kids were knocked down by a wave they weren't expecting. There are signs posted all along the bluffs that the surf is very dangerous, so we watched the kids more carefully hoping that they would stay further away from the water's edge. Ultimately their exploring and bravado turned to simply playing catch with water, which you always win unless you wait too long before running back up the beach as the waves move to nip at your heals.

On the way back to the stairs, we stumbled across a dead baby sea lion. It had been on the beach the entire time, and was the reason for the rotting smell. It was a light brown, the exact same color as the other driftwood that was strewn about. I suppose we just assumed that it was a piece of wood when we first walked passed. It is surprising that the dogs didn't notice it before we did. Even more surprising is that we didn't step on it when we were walking over the rocks and piles of seaweed. That would have been a very nasty surprise. Although it looked like a log, you can bet it didn't have the same texture, nor the strength to hold our weight.

Under a Blanket of Stars

We sat on the back deck last night, turned all the lights off in the back part of the house, closed the blinds that cover the sliding glass door, bundled up under a blanket and lay back on our reclining chairs to watch the stars. There are no streetlights in the neighborhood where we have rented a house, and obviously the omission was part of the building plan. Only the occasional car drove driving one of the roads nearby, its headlights dimming the stars a tad. I didn’t go camping as a kid, but I do remember seeing a lot of stars in the sky even at home, even more when visiting friends who lived out in the country. What is lacking in those memories is the awe that we felt last night.

The sky looked–cluttered; it didn’t look clear, it looked freckled. And there was just enough cloud cover to add a dimension of wispy opacity in a non-pattern, as if to add texture or softness to a blanket. The stars were so close that it was like looking up at a blanket that had been thrown over the earth as a protective barrier. I like the idea of a protective barrier keeping us safe even in the daytime. The stars are out there even in the daytime, we just can’t see them, so the blanket is there all the time keeping us safe. Safe from the unknown. Maybe safe from ourselves

I had forgotten that stars twinkle. Oh sure, intellectually I know that Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star is titled such because of the natural phenomenon. I just don’t actually think about it, or didn’t until last night. They did more than twinkle, they shimmered; they invited my eyes in for a closer look and then seemed to move, sometimes in a line, sometimes farther away, sometimes closer. Startled I would bring my focus back down to earth and blink only to see that the stars had returned to their original positions. They were teasing me, playing games from millions (or billions) of miles away, dancing around in the sky overhead, obviously delighted to be free up there in the night sky. Free to be seen, free to twinkle, free to shimmer, free to be part of a lovely, soft blanket we could wrap ourselves in just before we fell asleep.

An Affair to Remember

Remember that first feeling of falling in love? Maybe the first time that you made love with that new special someone? Remember how it smelled fresh and new, how soothing the touch was on your skin. That's how the air in Sea Ranch, California felt to me last night. I sat out on the deck off the hexagonal house we are renting and looked out at the crashing waves of the ocean that were lit by the stars. The wispy tendrils of the clouds danced among those stars twinkling above my head.

It's as if I could inhale all of the physical and emotional into my nostrils and hold them there. It felt decadent and wholesome. The sea air mingled with the breath of the pine trees and filled me with a sense of calm. Serenity. For a brief moment, the air was my lover, the breeze was his arms embracing me.

The wet kiss on the mouth-that was a dog.

This year we brought our puppies, Molly and Teddy. And they love Sea Ranch. They love the yard that holds oh so many fascinating scents, and the deer that watch us pass by while on our evening walks. We haven't yet introduced them to this portion of the ocean, in mid-Northern California. We are above Fort Ross and well belong Fort Bragg.

Northern California coasts are notoriously cold and windy. The water is certainly cold, and yesterday's breeze sounded from the inside of the house like a minor hurricane, but the wind wasn't cold and the sun still shone and it was just lovely. This morning there is some fog rolling in and it looks like it might obscure the sun for the day. Even then, we are so close to the ocean that we can hear the waves roll and crash. For a water baby (I was born under the sign of Cancer the crab) this is like coming home. Like an affair to remember. So, my Irish coffee and I (cup #3 for the morning) are going back out on the deck now.