Sometimes Ocean roars in like a dragon, frothing and swirling, energy radiating from every salty drop, tossing boats, leveling cliffs, chasing swimmers to shore. Every scale and feather ripples in this self-induced storm, power is the name of the game. Other days Ocean is a mirror, calmly reflecting the world around, inviting bare feet, sand castle builders, and sunset seekers. Still waters run deep and Ocean is seldom still and often deep. Beneath the surface lies worlds unlike those we know on dry land. Curiosities are common. Ocean makes a home for the octopus who is a master of disguise, changing shape and color at will. Pelican skims the surf above, joined by its squadron overseeing the shoreline, pouches poised for a quick snack. Ocean reminds us that water is everything: power and life and home. Whether dragon or mirror, to preserve life on our planet Ocean requires our respect and protection. Now is our time to roar.
Today’s Verselove prompt comes from Denise. She encouraged us to borrow some rhyming words to craft a poem of our choice.
Rhyme is one of those techniques I mostly stay far away from. Rhythm, yes. Word play? I’m in. But rhyme challenges me–it feels too forced or too trite or just too obvious.
But in the spirit of trying and working to craft something meaningful, I turned to Emily Dickinson and her very well known poem, “Hope” is the Thing with Feathers and borrowed some rhyming words–as well as using her title as inspiration on the slant for my title.
An afternoon at the Monterey Bay Aquarium under the influence of the sea–both inside the aquarium and outside in the wilds of the magnificent Monterey Bay provided the content: jellies, the giant Pacific octopus, the grumpy looking moray eel to name just a few.
I’m reaching that point in this month-long blogging challenge where it feels like I have already written about the things that are interesting in my day. No one wants to read more about the rainy days we’ve been experiencing, the state of the streets in my neighborhood, or the outdoor public art at UCSD. So what to do? Weirdly, one of my posts is today’s inspiration for others…so maybe, just maybe, it can inspire me too.
I love to take photos and have an unimaginable number of photos on my phone (some taken with the phone, others taken with my Sony mirrorless camera and transferred to the phone). So today I decided to give myself a prompt and explore my camera roll.
I decided to search for blue, and with that single word as a prompt, so many photos came up for me to examine and think about.
Instead of going down a blue rabbit hole, I picked just a few for a short photo essay…an exploration of some of the blues that caught my eye.
I love to take photos of trees. Sometimes when the light and the background is just right, the photo offers a sense of the majesty and wonder of a tree. I love the blue of the mountains in the distance and the varied blues of the skies in the distance. There’s a moodiness that feels reflective, quiet…like a deep breath.
This Joshua Tree National Park sunset offers the deeper, more intense blues of the desert as dark chases the light across the sky. Once the sun dips, the stars will make their entrance crafting vivid pictures in the indigo as nighttime creeps across the desert.
But as much as I love trees, I am more likely to find myself walking along the shoreline. While it’s common to think about the ocean as blue, in this case it is the blue plastic bucket that stands out in the transparency of the water. I love the way the light and shadow also captures the subtle movement of the water.
I’m always a sucker for a shore bird, and this great blue heron was a wonderful surprise. Blue when it comes to herons is of the blue-gray variety and these tall, stately birds are a study in patience. They embody stillness–unless they are startled and then they spread and flap their enormous wings and somehow those large bodies take flight.
The ocean is never a single color–and that’s true of the sky too. Light and shadow shift the spectrum of blues and greens, purples and grays, pinks and oranges, offering a magnificent palette of colorful waves for surfers to explore (rightside up and upside down).
What will you find if you take time to explore your camera roll?
I woke up on this first day of 2025 to a blog post written by my friend Molly. She talked about the ways she invokes luck and good fortune at the beginning of a new month–and a new year. She woke this morning saying, “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” a sure sign of good things to come (and heard her husband muttering it even before she was fully conscious). And then she talked about paying attention to the first bird, and essentially “reading” it to determine what qualities it might portend for the new year.
I didn’t wake up with the word rabbit on my mind, and the idea of birds flew out of my brain well before rising from my cozy bed this morning. Our plans for the day were to meet family at the beach around noon–when things began to warm up a bit. Only it really didn’t. Our short drive from home to the beach took us from the sunshine into a thick coating of coastal overcast–and it was downright cold! (At least by SoCal standards)
After a couple of vigorous games of beach paddleball, 8 year olds chasing waves in puffer jackets, swim trunks, and bare feet (typical winter beach attire), a tidepool mishap that resulted in a painful scrape and tears…and an early exit from the beach, we were left to our own devices. So we headed out to lunch where we discussed our need to still fit a walk into our day. We had resigned ourselves to walking our neighborhood until Geoff suggested heading back to the beach–one a couple of miles north of where we were earlier–to do our walking.
The tide was heading toward low–and a good negative tide that would leave tidepools uncovered–my favorite condition for walking. The sun began to peek out as it headed down closer to the horizon. The best tidepools are about a mile from the parking lot where we parked (you can get there from a closer lot–but we needed the walk). Loads of people were out at the beach today–maybe for their own New Year’s traditions.
I walked out onto the reef, noticing the usual sea anemones and tiny crabs. My attention was drawn by a conversation overheard about an octopus, and I headed in that direction. I noticed a tween girl with a large seastar in her hand–and also noticed several other smaller seastars in the pool where she was standing. I frequently look for seastars in the tidepools and seldom find any, so this felt special. The young girl was quite enthusiastic and encouraged me to take a photo of the seastar in her hand. Of course I obliged and took a number of photos of those gorgeous orange echinoderms.
As I observed the seastars and took my photos, I couldn’t help thinking about the good fortune of seeing this elusive creature on the first day of the year. Google offers that seastars represent a striving for peace and harmony and the ability to accomplish great things when you set your mind to it. For me, seastars embody flexibility and the superpower that allows them to regenerate when faced with hardship–a certain kind of resilience. All of these seem like qualities our world needs right now.
And to add frosting to the cake, as I walked away from the seastars (the the young girl carefully settled them back into their tidepool habitat), I noticed a couple peering closely under the ledge nearby. He was shining a flashlight, pointing out where a small octopus was hunkered down. I moved closer and he shined the light again so I could see–and to be honest, I wasn’t seeing anything. So I asked, “What am I looking for to see the octopus?” He then pointed out the eye and the way the octopus was wrapped around the ledge. Then I could see that expertly camouflaged creature–even if it wasn’t in a position to be photographed! Sometimes you just have to look with your eyes and snap that memory into your mind–and maybe blog about it to remember it again later!
I’m holding that seastar in my mind and heart as a symbol of good luck on this first day of 2025 and reminding myself of the power of wonder and curiosity…and playfulness. Let’s push back against darkness and strive for peace, empathy, and care as we continue to move through this new year.
Today’s #verselove prompt asks for poetry inspired by a place your favorite writer loves. I have so many favorite poets, but honestly know little about their favorite places. Today as I explored CA central coast beaches, my writer-mentor became clear.
Rachel Carson is best know as a scientist and environmentalist, but her writing evokes the essence of poetry. An internet search uncovered an article where historian and author Jill Lepore described Carson as a “scientist poet of the sea.” Just what I was looking for.
So I let the sea inspire my poetry today. Today dawned cloudy and cool, yesterday’s sunshine merely a memory. To try to capture both the science aspect and some spare nature poetry, I chose a Haibun as my format.
Sea-spiration
Into the clouds we plunged, shrinking my field of vision. Purple sand dollars waved from the wet low-tide sand, many sporting a barnacle rider or two. As they lighten, becoming delicate skeletons, a charcoal-traced design appears. Like the sand dollars, I tunnel in, finding quiet in the symphony of wave and wind. Beauty emerges in the smallness.
Have you ever had a day where a routine errand turned into a mini vacation? After working all day, I knew I needed to fill my gas tank. Knowing that my husband prefers this little out of the way gas station, I headed home to pick him up before getting gas. Since the sun decided to make an appearance today after days of a pervasive, gray marine layer, I had an idea percolating in my head. So I proposed, what if instead of taking our usual neighborhood walk after we get back from the gas station, we stop by the beach near the gas station and walk there? Tides are always a deciding factor at our local beaches. If the tides are not low enough, there isn’t enough beach to actually take a walk–and you never, ever, ever want to find yourself walking too close to cliffs that are known to crumble, showering rocks–some of them quite large–and who knows what else onto the beach below.
I lucked out. The beach just a couple of blocks away from the gas station had a modest amount of beach available. We parked, walked down about a million stairs only to be greeted by a dazzling view of the ocean.
Next we noticed hundreds and hundreds of Velella velella (also known as By-the-wind sailor) washed up on the shore. These brilliant blue relatives of the Portuguese Man of War have been washing up on our shore for the last month or so, although I’ve only seen them a few at a time before today.
As we continued our walk, the sun warmed my back and the sea breeze tickled my nose. The whoosh-whisper of the surf provided a perfect back beat for my breath, letting the work day slip away with each step I took.
There is so much character along this stretch of the beach. The residents of the houses along the shore have created whimsical ladder contraptions to give them access to the beach from their homes perched on the cliffs. And since they want access to the beach, but really don’t want visitors from the beach a ladder sticking straight out over your head doesn’t even make you bat an eye! I decided to play around with my camera. What would it look like to stand under the ladder and look up?
While the beach itself was mostly empty, I did come across a solitary shore bird out for an early dinner. It was pretty unconcerned by me and my camera, at times looking straight into my lens.
So, the trip to the gas station turned into a lovely break from the work week routine, a mini-vacation where I was immersed in sun, sea life, sounds, and a fresh ocean breeze. What a way to spend Tuesday afternoon!
One of the things I love most about #verselove is the opportunity to try new poetry formats and the stretch myself beyond my comfort zone. This is my first triolet, check the #verselove link above for more information.
SeaReflections
when I look into the mirrored surface today
sea echoes in my ears and in the roll of the waves
in my eyes reflects every shade from teal to blue to steely gray
when I look into the mirrored surface today
whispers I hear in the outlines of egrets, whistles of shorebirds, briny tickle in my nose…it’s here I’m called to stay
my heart beats to the rhythm, nature’s melody rings clear, it is this wild wet place my soul craves
when I look into the the mirrored surface today
sea echoes in my ears and in the roll of the waves
Today was a listening day. After yesterday’s afternoon and overnight rain, today dawned gray and foggy. But if I have a choice about taking my walk around the neighborhood or heading to the beach, I’m at the beach–regardless of weather.
The clouds hung low, almost touching the ground. Nearby cliffs smudged the perimeter while foamy waves rushed the shore. Without dazzling views illuminating every shade of blue, my ears took on the prime role today.
I match my breaths to the breaths of the sea, in and out, again and again. My feet begin to feel the rhythm of the bass as my ears fill with the hushed music of water. Worries take flight, joining the osprey riding the gentle currents over my head. My brain quiets as I listen to ocean’s song.
When I emerge from my private sound studio, I am calm and reenergized, ready to take on the weekend chores in front of me. My daily walk doubles as meditation today, an exercise in listening and breathing, soaking up sound and nature while my body moves in syncopated motion. I love when my walk feels like a mini vacation.
When people think beach, I think most imagine warm summer days filled with water play and sand castles. One of the things I love most about the beach is that it makes research evident. It’s not unusual on a low tide day to find scientists and students out in the tidepools with measuring tapes, notebooks, and cameras capturing the status of sea life and ocean conditions.
Recently, UCSD researchers have been conducting research where they put non-toxic pink dye in the river mouth that leads to the beach so they can document how the water moves. (I’m sure there are many more details involved, you can read more about it here.). Luckily, on one of the dye dumping days, my husband happened to be at that beach and snapped a few pics.
After a cliff failure (unfortunately this disaster happens all too often), research trucks with equipment mounted on the hood drives along the shoreline. And today, it was an ATV-like vehicle that seemed to have a camera or some other device mounted on it. It cruised up and down the coast, at times doing figure eights leaving deep ruts in the sea softened sand. At one point, the vehicle came back with another trailer-like device attached on the back. What kind of data were they collecting?
Making research visible and regular reminds us of the wonders that nature has to offer and also of the fragility of this amazing resource we call ocean. I love that I get to see research in action as a regular part of my daily routine…and that my students do too!
Thinking Through My Lens 