Monday Morning Beach Report: Hello El Nino, Hello Full Moon

The ocean is a gargantuan beast, its many mouths yawning tall with foamy tongues stretching farther and farther onto the sand. Not green or blue or silver or gray, all the churning has turned the beast brown. Life guard stations have been pulled from its reach, and where they once stood now lie what the beast has coughed onto the sand. Driftwood resembling half-devoured serpents. Tangles of twigs like flattened birds' nests, each with its own cache of plastic detritus, proving once more that we humans are the great sulliers of the universe. Green, red, blue, yellow. Bottle lids and their evil companion pull-tabs. Straws, strings with their flaccid balloons, pens, piñata leavings, Tic-Tac boxes, half shredded take-out containers. Tiny shards and nubbins of who-knows-what. The beast has regurgitated it all at our feet.

Good-Bye Christmas Tree /Hello El Nino

I did not require a crane to remove the Christmas tree from my living room, but the Ventura pier needs some remodeling after December's giant waves. This morning I could hear the roar of the ocean a mile away with my bedroom windows closed, and with the rain in abeyance, I went to see how the pier was doing. Still standing, I'm happy to say, despite today's stormy seas. The winds blew in fierce and cold this afternoon. More El Nino storms on the way, they say. I feel safe here in my house out of the path of flowing mud, surrounded by farm fields instead of dry hillsides, the marina ready to catch whatever rain is delivered without any towering waves. Southern California is indeed the temperate place many people imagine it to be, but it's also a place of extremes.

And extremely beautiful. The sun went down today without much flashy red, but the clouds were edged in gold, and in the opposite direction, they were cotton candy blue.

I hope you are warm and dry. I hope your 2016 has had a nice dollop of sweetness so far. And if the wind is blowing in your direction, I hope it smells of evergreens or like the lavender in Grant Park today, releasing its wind-whipped  perfume.