Click on photos to enlarge.
This is my entry for Nancy Merrill Photography’s, A Photo A Week Challenge with the topic Water and Jez’s Water Water Everywhere (WWE) #32 challenge.
Click on photos to enlarge.
This is my entry for Nancy Merrill Photography’s, A Photo A Week Challenge with the topic Water and Jez’s Water Water Everywhere (WWE) #32 challenge.
I would have to say that my muse is the sea–but not the open sea. Rather, where it meets the land.
I love sand and the things it collects: seashells, jellyfish, sand dollars, starfish, puff fish, sand pipers, sea turtles and even the people who collect at the beach. It is like they have retreated as far as possible–the next step is either a boat or drowning! They tend to be individuals, slightly odd–kind of like the people from the western world who congregate in third world locales like Africa. Perhaps they are this age’s pioneers or trappers.
Oh yes. I do love the oceanside, the beach. Salt. Sand. I love what collects above the beach as well: frigate birds and pelicans, ibises, sun, moon, clouds. Above are some of the thousands of images of the beach I’ve collected over the past ten years or so.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Muse.” What subject do you keep coming back to again and again?
I woke up early this morning and while I was waiting for the prompt, a dolphin swam into my consciousness and prompted this tale. While you are waiting for me to write a poem about the sense of smell, (today’s prompt), please be content with this one written about another sense:

Ocean Koan
Ocean Koan
The dolphins ride in on the music,
but why did they come here?
Did they seek to lend their harmonies
to a music new and queer?
Did they soar in on its melody,
come in on a riff,
drawn by its dissonant whistle—
a mere beckoning whiff?
Whatever the dolphins are hearing,
whatever they’re trying to reach,
we don’t understand their language
as they lie stranded on our beach.
Perhaps we divert them with towers
that speak in a tongue their own,
and though it’s not our intention,
our messages form a koan
that they are driven to answer
as we’re drawn to outer space,
pulled to find our others
in an alien clime and place.
We believe we are harmless and loving,
at peace with their watered dreams;
when in truth we are drying their world up—
ripping it at the seams.
We send out the signals to pull them
to where they should not be,
like fairytales told to children
that draw them to our knee—
We turn our backs to the seaward window,
seal our ears to their keening tones
as the dolphins swimming landward
pave our beaches with their bones.
I am not an expert on sonar or other communication technology. If you want to hear more on the subject, go here: http://www.earthportals.com/beachedwhales.html