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La Manzanilla, Mexico, March 2023
Phases: For Water Water Everywhere 168
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Category Archives: Ocean
Bird of the Day, Sep 3, 2019
This was the view from our balcony on the ship. This gull seemed to be leading the way. The wing sticking out from the side of the ship was the captain’s office. He was the only one with a better view of where we were bound to than we had, port side!
Undulations
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
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Undulations
The constant undulation and the murmur of the waves.
The crashing of the breakers as they beat against the caves
carved out by the chisel of the water making hives
at the edges of the world that ensconced our busy lives.
It craved us as its audience. It pulled us to its shore.
It calmed our petty grievances with its might roar.
When it chose to rage it could wipe away our world,
sweeping us away as its anger came unfurled.
At other times it lapped at us, assuaging all our pain.
That’s why we returned to it, over and again.
Walked along its edges, pierced its salty deep,
uncovering the secrets so long within its keep.
Every morning it brought treasures to our waiting hands
to examine as we walked along the morning-evened sands.
Dollars from the ocean depths, stars out of the sea––
left there to be taken or to be let be
for the next beachcomber to claim them for their own
to treasure on a mantel what the sea had thrown
like necklaces at mardi gras, cast blindly and for free
for denizens of dry worlds to collect on bended knee.
What we cast back on the waters determines ultimately
what the sea will one day give back to you and me,
and if we do not listen to the truth the tides may tell,
the music of the waves may be our funeral knell.
The prompt today is undulate.
La Manzanilla: Local for a Quarter Year
After many years of going to La Manz in doses of one week to two months, I’m committing to three months this year. I think that makes me a local, or perhaps an apprentice local. I love this little town on the west coast of Mexico, a few hours below Puerto Vallarta.
The photo prompt this week is “Local.”
Gloss: Travel Theme
Islas Ballestras of Peru: Cee’s Travel Theme Land Meets Water
                                           Islas Ballestras: Peru’s Galapagos
Sometimes where land comes together with water, that land is an island; and in Peru’s Ballestras Islands, it furnishes a wonderful preserve where millions of penguins, boobies, gulls, seals and other animals are able to live in a protected environment.
To see Cee’s incredible panoramic coastline view and other photographers’ work, go HERE.
Seascapes
Oh no. After a month at the beach, how to choose? Eenie, meenie, mynie mo—
I can never get enough of this view of the La Manzanilla beach. And, it is always different. (If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you can see the sandpiper on the beach very clearly.)
This time at the beach, I’ve spent hundreds of hours watching pelicans, usually in the water myself. Even out of the water, it is hard to capture them because they move so swiftly, but with such grace. They are so much a part of the seascape that I think this shot belongs in this series.
My camera (or my skills) can never capture the real colors of the sunsets here. The reddest sun becomes white when photographed and I can only approach the real colors of the sky through a bit of color editing. Anyone who has been to La Manzanilla at any time of the year can say these outstanding sunsets are real and continuous.
One of the aforementioned suns. In reality, it was brilliant red, but it came out as white in the photo. Does anyone know why?
For Cee’s own wonderful photos and other seascapes and landscapes, go here: http://ceenphotography.com/2014/12/16/cees-fun-foto-challenge-landscapes-or-seascapes/
Blue-footed Booby
Blue-footed Booby
Graceful Vee of wing and curve of neck
laid out in sea foam on the beach—
it is as though you are making a final goofy move
on feet dressed up in blue first for dancing and then for love.
The means of your death is less a mystery to me
than what has left you and where it is now.
Perhaps, as I cup my hand through air above you,
I hold a part of you not soon enough departed.
Remembering those tiny sea turtles,
alone in the sea for moments,
picked off by the birds,
these mysteries worry me
like tiny flippers
resisting
that next great adventure
of the inside of a pelican
as I finally understand why anyone
would choose to have their ashes scattered at sea.
I have always dreaded descent
to the ocean’s dark floor,
when I could have been imagining
washing up on a favorite shore.
Floating Meditation
Floating Meditation
I don’t want to do aerobics;
I want to float the sea,
pretending that I’m flotsam
or perhaps that flotsam’s me.
I’d like to try to meditate
the half hour I’m adrift,
but I fear that between me
and my subconscious there’s a rift.
“Am I flotsam now or jetsam?”
keeps running through my mind.
I guess to tell the truth,
I’m not the meditating kind.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 