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.
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.
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?
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
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.