Saturday Morning Beach Report: Teach a Man to Fish....

It was immediately obvious that something was going on at the beach this morning. It turned out to be a fishing tournament. I kinda counted heads--and I'd say about 80 people (mostly men, but not all) were there. It was fun to notice what people were wearing. Lots of shorts and bare feet. There was also a guy in hip boots, and two guys who appeared to be friends wearing black shoes and black socks, but wet up to mid-calf anyway. The couple wearing matching American flag shorts got some compliments from their fellow fishermen.

I turned my attention to the dunes for awhile. I don't think I give them enough attention. They are beautiful in their own right.

Friday Morning Beach Report

Two tall ships beneath two stripes of cloud.

Pelicans fishing the waves and a fisherman, sitting in his beach chair not fishing.

An adolescent boy throwing sticks into the water. 

Plenty of sticks to be had.

Lots of debris on the sand. Mostly mother nature's own detritus. Bark, sticks, stumps, large branches and a couple of tree trunks.

A day like this almost always yields treasure.

Mother Nature's rendition of Degas.

Monday Morning Beach Report and a Photo of Life in Pillville

Down the beach a ways, two fisherman.
No  hint of the islands.
And a lone surfer makes his exit while
a single tern drops into the sea.

My mom and I just returned from a visit to her primary care physician to discuss pain. One of her meds--Cymbalta--will be increased. Meanwhile, this is how she copes between pain pills: microwave hot packs. These are scented with lavender. She says she needs another one...for her brain.

Wednesday Morning Beach Report/Winter in Southern California

Wave devours wave as fishermen joust toward the surf

and empty lifeguard stations stand sentry as squadrons of pelicans disappear into the haze.

Lost on the Beach

We were supposed to meet on the beach--my son and his family and I. But through a misunderstanding and a rash of dropped cell phone calls, (did people really manage to meet each other without cell phones?) we missed each other, and my first beach walk in two weeks turned out to be a solitary one.

It was still fun. This being a holiday weekend, the normally unpopulated beach had some unusual sights and a few more common ones.

These hula dancers were posing for a photo shoot, but the wind kept blowing their headdresses askew.

Boomerang aficionados. Poor dog. What happened to fetch, he's wondering.

And of course there were surfers.

And fishermen.

And jet skiers.

I think, today, if I could have changed places with any of them, I might have chosen to be a hula dancer. They actually danced a bit. Hula's classic moves seem just right with the waves as a backdrop.