tide pool | Thinking Through My Lens

I was talking with my sister last weekend and she mentioned she had done a color walk with a friend at the beach. I’ve done color walks with my students around the school, often picking a color that I think they’ll have to look hard to find. I like the way that a focus on something: a color, a shape, a something…opens up new possibilities for what you might notice.

Of course, for me a color walk is also a photography walk…and lately a poetry walk as well. The tide has been low this week during my walking times, so the tide pools have been calling my name.

The color of giant kelp (macrocystis pyrifera) kept calling my name. An amber, goldish, kind of orangish color. And weirdly enough I felt like it was echoed in the landscaping I walked by (I did have quite a trek since we had summer over the weekend and parking also felt like summer–like looking for a needle in a haystack!).

With orangish on my mind, I pulled a small collection of photos from my walk, and then used them to inspire some small poetry. To be honest, I dreamed poems all night on Sunday, tossing and turning, writing and revising in my head. And then when I woke up it was all gone.

So, in the spirit of orangish, I’m going to try again. (Although I doubt I can conjure what seemed so urgent and perfect in those busy, persistent writing dreams.)

i.

I close my eyes and the sun pours in

painting the insides of my eyelids a warm

and soothing orangish

ii.

blinking

cool pools emerge

alive with shelled hermits

the unhomed of the crab world

investigating abandoned curves of mother of pearl

awash in orangish spiralling exterior

iii.

tide pool gardens bloom

floral anemones waving tentacles

decorating with bits of shell

iv.

on dry land I notice anemone’s cousin

a pin cushion of a blossom

exotic, styling points instead of petals

in all of the orangish and amber of the sea

v.

and a familiar bird

not the one with the bright yellow feet

but the one with a bright orangish mohawk

atop its sharp blue beak

it can only be named bird of

vi.

Paradise

@kd0602

Maybe you can squeeze a color walk into your week. What color will speak to you?

I’m not particularly lucky. When I insert coins in a slot machine, the bells don’t ring and money doesn’t come out. When I play lotto (definitely not regularly), my numbers do not come up. When I find a scratcher in my Christmas stocking, there’s no prize that appears to cash in. My name doesn’t get pulled for raffle prizes and I can’t even imagine how badly I would fare on a TV reality game like Deal of No Deal Island!

In life, I count my lucky stars (where did I pull that phrase from?). My family is mostly healthy–as am I. I am in a happy long-term relationship. My children are independent and making their way in the world. I love my work and my life.

2025 has been a sea star year for me. I count myself lucky every time I see one. I started the year by coming across a beautiful specimen in the tide pool on New Year’s Day–and wrote about how lucky that felt–a hopeful talisman for the year! Rather than choosing one little word to guide the year, sea stars are giving me direction, hope, and energy. I’ve had a number of other sea star sightings this year. Each one brings that same surge of euphoria and feeling of luck.

As I walked the beach this afternoon (a perfect way to end the work week), my husband and I were commenting that we hadn’t seen any tide pool critters lately. We aren’t the people who wade in and turn over rocks, stirring up the tide pool in search of aquatic life. We look, as patiently as possible, to see creatures in their undisturbed place.

And then, a bright pop of orange caught my eye! It was a sea star. Just a small one, about the size of a quarter. Just when I moved in closer to take a photo, the water surged, covering my shoes and soaking my socks. Oh well, I thought. I still felt so lucky to start the weekend with the dopamine spike of seeing and enjoying the sea star in its natural habitat!

Today I am counting my lucky sea stars!