Green Water; Rising Tide

Flotsam: Beach Rescue

 The poor fellow was lying on the sand, obviously washed up with the morning tide.  I couldn't help but think of some poor child bereft of his or her friend.

So I placed the elephant on a rock in a spot that would keep him above the rising tide and at a good eye-level for any adults walking the beach.  Of course, anyone seeking a lost friend like this would have their eyes glued to the sand . . . so here's hoping.

I think his name is Hannibal, by the way.

Sand-Encrusted Creatures As The Tide Falls Away

Barnacle and sea anemones anchored to the wall of the surge channel.  

The tide was dropping.

Two small sea anemones tightly closed and covered with sand.

The eye of the abyss . . . .

An unlikely, but definite, beauty.

Some sea anemones are still partially opened as the tide is dropping.

Surge channel.

Surging water fills the channel and covers the creatures . . . until the water recedes, drawing back for the next wave.  High tide won't occur again for hours.

Flow in action.

Dance of the Tide

The Intertidal Zone

Between the high and the low;
Between the here and the there.

Clay mask (small):
sculpture mix; shiny black and shino glazing.

Low Tide Wall-Shots, The Alley, and a Watchful Seal

I first saw this seal as he floated two feet beneath my kayak, watching me as I paddled slowly about his rock garden, though I didn't get that photo.  He moved off and away, watching me from the surface as I put more distance between us.  I don't want to get too close and infringe on such creatures.  (Close shots can be taken from far-enough-away; that's why I have the zoom on the camera.)

Nudibranch: Three Views

Swam

Swam.  Feeling sore but good too. More like myself. Time to turn the tide toward fitness and soul-solace.

"Tied-Up House": Lyrics By Jackie Leven

TIED-UP HOUSE

found a little stone on a harbour wall
sea-spray-soaked and very small
big bay rough and turning brown
little shrimp boat on a dangerous sound

i can't go back to the tied-up house
tied so tight people can't get out
you can hear them wail, you can hear them shout
or they sit in chairs till the silence hurts

the ocean roars from room to room
leaving tide marks in the shallow gloom
i got cuts on my hand from i don't know where
and a sobbing hall that i just can't bear

--Jackie Leven,
from his CD Shining Brother Shining Sister

Tidal Ignorance, Deeper Bliss

My dive-buddy Keith and I never mastered the tide tables.

We'd aim at early morning dives, high tide or low, figuring we'd pick the calmer, less wind-driven waters of most dawns over shallower, supposedly easier diving. Up on the Sonoma Coast, we weren't beach-diving, but were entering and exiting via rocky shores. Thinking about the wave action mattered more, we felt, than thinking about the tidal action. Especially, for exiting the water.

If the tide were in, well, we'd just hold our breath a bit more, kick a bit harder.

And, if the tide were in, later we could point out that we were diving deeper for our abalone. We'd laugh, knowing that we should know those tide tables better, but not really caring.

We were diving deep enough, deeper than some.

We didn't mind laughing at ourselves either.

Of course, if we'd been surfers, we'd have figured out those tables in very short order.