Friday, February 15, 2013

Beachcombing Pup

Hello Good friends.
What a beautiful early Spring day. Soft grey muted clouds hang on the mountains, draping them with rain that brings forth the green and the new life of fawns, and more of Mother's Nature's bounty that we have come to wholeheartedly embrace for it's goodness, and restorative powers. 

The tides come and they go, and each succession of waves leaves it's riches, and takes away something in return. There are such immense riches upon the beaches that I walk daily, rocks as old as time immoral, kelp, and shells, sea creatures scurrying away from a puppy's inquistitive nose, and clawing claws that dig, and dig and dig. I rarely come home without some small treasure, a pebble that catches my eye, and small empty shell, a remanant of some creature's home in  some deep oceanic embrace that has been flung onto the shore so that I can find it. The gulls wheel, and dive, catching some shell in their beaks they soar to heights and freely drop the shell hoping that this time the food inside will be released to their every hungry beaks. There is a pair of nesting bald eagles on this beach walk, they've found their spot, defended it against others, and are doing eagle things that come with nesting rights to a beach rich with food and the wealth that the oceans bring on every tide.
They also wheel and cavort in the sky they tumble and toss at each other talons extended, wings embracing in tenderness to soften the impact, the eagles come together and mate, then break apart and the game begins again.

In the distance the sealions bellow, the pup perks her ears, and cocks her head, and gazes out onto the ocean what creature is it, that barks like a dog but swims in the water, water so deep and salty it hides more than I a mere pup can fathom. I prefer the solid ground on which my walker and I stand. I will bark and defend my beach rock that I stand upon I am a queen in my own  right
I dare you, creature of the unknown come hither to me, and state your case! And after I have eaten my fill of treasures that I come upon on the beach that my walker tries in vane to hide fish skeletons, minute crabs, mussel shells and barnacles attached I will with hunger quieted into silence decide whether you and I can be friends, which of course goes without saying we will be fondest friends for time immoral, and  I shall tell you of stories of the land, and you can spin your tales of the deep, salty oceans that you dwell in, and between the two of us we shall rule the world!