Forgot My Water-Camera Today

 

Forgot my water-camera today.  Always good to do, once in a while.  During my 45-minute paddle-workout, I found myself still checking photo opportunities, but I also found myself noticing other things.  The quality and consistency of my strokes, for example, or lack thereof.  The balance points of the board, if I changed position.  Also, aspects of the sailboats and motorboats on Richardson Bay that were other than telegenic: waterline bio-creep; working boats vs storage boats; changes in mooring positions; new flags, new sails, and new decorations.  I also focused more on using the slight swell to my benefit; it was slight, so that took focus I usually don't spare when the camera is handy.

Dim Tide

 

Blue World

 

Paddling: Horseshoe Cove

 

Before the fires.

I Wish, I Wish, I Wish I Were A Fish?

On the water, at least; if not in the water.  Looking at the fish as I glide above them.  Frankly, going swimming or diving would be great too.

I am definitely missing paddling the new board.  I had just managed to shift into that state of being in which working out is a real routine, a real need.

A selfish wish, to exercise outside, during this time of smoke and fire.

Still . . . .  

Photo by JP

Moored

 And unmoored as well.

Yesterday's Looking-for-Cool.

Sausalito morning.

Looking for Cool

 In this heatwave, one strategy has been to get bayside, to get out onto the bay, early in the day.

Point Molate paddling

Photo by JP

My stance is better than I had feared.

I guess balancing creates the proper feedback pattern.

Gemini X 3 / 5 +9

Charting the passage of time, activities, and identity:

what I do.

There's a lot more humor and a lot less ego involved in the parade of profile pics; at least, that's the way I see it.  (Judge me, if you want, but I don't intend to lose sleep over the matter.)  I have written before of Rembrandt's many selfies and of the third-person would-be objective perspective of mirror-images offered in John Fowles' novel Daniel Martin, an old favorite.  

Tracking my age and how the lines on my face and how the gray or white hairs on my head accumulate can be a sport with different events.  Guessing where the next ache or sore muscle will appear is another such event.  I am not getting younger, right?  

But I am also still paddling and diving and reading around and pursuing other such richly-enlivening activities.  (Man alive, I miss the studio and clay.).   I like to keep track of all those activities I am fortunate enough to pursue -- and keep track of the different people I seem to be and have been: Diver Matt, Kayak Matt, Teacher Matt, Clay Matt, and so forth.  After a long day desk-bound, there's a uplifting joy in checking what I was doing, who I was, in times past.  Sometimes, checking the last trip to Mendocino, for example, can spur me to check the weather and start making plans for the next outing,, however long or far away.  And, if that planning proves merely mental, proves merely daydreaming, that's good too.  I return to the matter at hand at the desk a bit more energized, a bit more ready to dig in.  

What with the pandemic, remote teaching, and reaching 59, I have been feeling reflective.

As a Gemini, I am used to seeing the world and myself through a two-fold lens.  

Here are a few more recent examples.

THE PADDLER:

(A) stern and serious, working at it --

B) Having fun on the water -- salt salvation --

THE VINTAGE LOOK  /  BLACK & WHITE GAMES:

(A) Ducking down an alleyway  -- "Call me Ishmael."          (Thanks, Herman Melville.)

(B) A "Pirate" Looks Toward 60?          (Thanks, Jimmy Buffett)

 

FULL-FRONTAL (portrait-wise):

(A) Post-dive, unmasked: 

red from too much sun and the cold cold water; 

slightly saltdrunk --

(B)  Post-paddle, pandemic ready --

This last shot: that mask gets lots of smiles, lots of laughs, from children and adults alike.  

It's a sea lion mask, technically, but many kids think it's a dog--and why not? 

Sea lions bark too, don't they?

So, I oblige.

Any man who barks in public can't take himself too seriously.

Accidental Exposure

 

I made the local paper as an extra in a photo!

(Thanks, Bibit, for sharing this with me.)

At my first paddle boarding lesson a month or so back, a writer was part of the group learning to paddle.  ( A photographer was stationed on land.)

In the photo, I am looking down at my board instead of looking forward and beyond. Grrr.

(I look at my skates on the ice too: bad form.)

Aiming for Fitness

 

Paddle boarding just might save me, particularly since the pools are closed or restricted. Whole body workout. Measured exercise for the problematic knees. Balancing exercises supposedly good for the aging brain!

And I live with such bounty, so many paddling spots bayside or seaside, an easy drive away.

(I have been commuting hours for decades for lesser rewards. In the pandemic, I am spending more hours at the computer, but some of my old hours at the wheel could go into a proper workout.)

--August 12 notebook entry

Meet The New Board

 

My new paddle board is definitely demanding: sleek and tippy. 

(Still, the test isn't genuine without the threat of failure.) 

But my legs and knees, while sore and stiff in the morning, seem to benefit from the exercise, and my spirit certainly has been glad to find salt water in this new way. I wonder, yes, if I should have chosen a cruiser, but all the books and the guides say buy the board that challenges you. 

Mere salesmanship? 

I will tell you after some serious workouts.

P.S. I do like how fast this board can be, even when I am merely in kayak-mode.

Blue / Fog

 

Gray Is The Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ripple

 

ECHO

SUP: Sausalito Morning