Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Wednesday Beach Report

The wind is blowing here in its usual merciless way. Sand in the eyes. Waves too big for an underfed sea lion trying to haul out onto the sand to get warm. "Wait," I said to the man with a gaggle of kids. They were all carrying sticks in the harmless way that kids do. "Don't let them get too close." I think he thought I was worrying about the kids. I explained that we didn't want the kids to scare the sea lion back into the water. "It's cold," I said. "See how skinny it is. It's coming out of the water to get warm. I'm going to call the rescue hotline right now," I said, pulling out my cell phone. I became someone with authority to him then. He commanded his kids back from the surf. But it was too late. The sea lion was washed into the waves, too weak to even swim. Which I suppose made it a bad candidate for rescue in the first place. I consoled myself with that. And the fact that another family now knows about starving sea lions.

I had a dream last night. Flying like a kite in a tireless wind, I caught only the tail end of it before I woke, mumbling. I said something to my father. He said something to me. Something about my mother.

I don't remember my dreams often. But a night or two after I returned home from Iowa, I had a terrible nightmare. There were plot twists galore, betrayal by friends, and when I lay helpless on the floor, a zombie grabbed my foot and began to drag me away. Help me. Help me. Help me. I whimpered in a tiny voice that took every ounce of my strength. I've wondered if the zombie might be my mother. Weird, I know. But I don't believe in zombies, and she is the most recent loved one to have crossed into that other world. Maybe she wanted company.

On a more encouraging note, I came home from Iowa, and my son and his family came to visit the very next day. We went whale watching and the water was as flat as glass. We saw sea lions, and two kinds of dolphins, and gray whales.

Heron in the harbor

Dolphins, not sharks
whale's tale


Elizabeth said...

I'm thinking about you, dear friend, and loving you from down south. I will make my way up there to visit again very soon.

Ms. Moon said...

Thank god for family. And for the sea with its endless life and death and untold mysteries.
Dreams are weird. Try not to pay too much attention to them.

Taxmom said...

Glad you are back on the coast and hope you have relief from upsetting dreams.

Andrea said...

The dream reminded me of nightmares I had after certain deaths. For me, I think it's all about helplessness. I hope there's clear sailing tonight and for all the nights to come. These are hard enough days without the nights being tough as well.

37paddington said...

How could our mothers be gone? I cannot get used to it still. But I've decided that's okay. It must have been good to have your son and his family there with you.