Hot Sultry Mornings

Dawn, Sea of Cortez

Dawn : Day 140 : Sea of Cortez

It’s hot. Spring has flashed to summer with the turn of a switch.

Dawn comes with still seas and air that carries the heavy scent of salted water.

From my writing perch, I watch orioles dash palm to palm, nipping at dried fronds for nesting materials. Small hummingbirds lap at red flowers, doves coo from the neighbor’s rooftop, and house wrens flitter between plantings and small trees.

A wondrous way to wake ….

Beach walkers – with and without dogs, ply the beach. A few youngsters hurry past on their morning run. Buster begs me to stop writing and take him on an adventure.

In the distance, the tinkle of the bottled water delivery man’s truck. It reminds me of the bells on the ice cream man’s truck when I was a small child in Long Beach, CA.

Behind the sweet tinkle is the loudspeaker of the day’s political broadcastings. A sedan of undetermined color circles the hood, a speaker mounted to the roof of his car, with a taped recording blaring into the otherwise quiet space. While my Spanish isn’t perfect, there is something about the tinniness and the volume of the speaker that renders the advertisement unintelligible. I grasp it’s for one or other of the candidates vying for votes in this year’s election.

Quiet already disturbed, trucks laden with soil to fill a neighborhood lot arrive, followed by a large bulldozer that begins to spread the earth.

Time for another cup of coffee – and put the day in order.

beauty where we find it …..

Baja : Pacific Morning

For the uninitiated, there is little that can be said to fully express the beauty of Baja California Sur.  From the moment one leaves the populations of Colonet & San Quintin, makes a requisite gas stop in El Rosario, and heads into the heart of undeveloped land of cardon, bojum, cholla, poloverde, cirrius and more …  the heart slows, the shoulders drop, and the mind begins to embrace again that primal space of undeveloped land.

Mex One zigzags across the peninsula in undulating rhythms, following for the greater part, the easiest passage through rough terrain.  That translates to switchbacks, mountain climbs and descents, and arroyo crossings.  Wide plains, dry lakes and craggy rock piles – the spewn evidence of long-ago volcanoes litter the landscape.  I’ve stopped counting the trips. I never fail to be inspired.  I am always stunned by her beauty.

For those who are afraid to travel, I am sorry.  So much the greater landscape and less crowded roads for me.  While the horrors of the drug cartels are not to be ignored, the city streets of any major metropolitan area has its own body and assault count.  I feel safer in my home in Loreto than I ever did in the states.

The Pacific side teases with waves that follow distant swells.  Spots like the Wall, Shipwrecks, the local spots of Ensenada .. and of course, Pescadero, Todos Santos and Cabo San Lucas beckon surfers from across the globe.

The east coast, the beautiful bountiful Sea of Cortez, is filled with dolphin, sea turtles, fish of every color and size, rays and whales – blue, pilot, fin and orca.  Sunrises, sunsets .. kayaking, paddling, surfing, hiking, sailing, scuba diving, snorkeling .. exploring ..  magic.  To be with and surrounded by such beauty is to me – pure magic.
And then there are the people – beautiful kind warm family loving folks.

Food!  Beverages!  Music!  Dancing!  Camping under stars and/or a full moon. Yes : Baja : I love and dream of you always.

Rembrandt Skies

Rembrandt Skies

Rembrandt Skies

The rain was more than I could have asked for. Dark ominous skies for two days – and then the drops, light as first and then a heavy downpour that came in spurts, but lasted through the night. In the morning skies that painters dream about.

The rains in the night cleared the air (not that it needed to be cleared) and in the morning, the fragrance of the desert freshly gifted was water was hypnotic – better than any perfume imagined.

We wait now – for the green cover that follows desert rains. The brown and seemingly barren desert will burst into a carpet of plant life that sprouts in celebratory response to moisture.

As for the skies … clouds dissipate and mornings revert to placid seas and clear dawn explosions of darkness to dawn.

Cow Poop and Midnight Rock Throwing

Beach Cattle

Okay : the unfenced range cattle are entertaining as they wander down the beach during daylight hours.  They piss off the dogs, but can be dissuaded from ‘home’ invasion by yelling, the blast of a hose, or a kind of ‘run-at-em’ motion.

At night – Not the same deal.

Last night, the dogs were just going off!  Shorty & Diego were barking at the top of their doggy vocal chords – and relentlessly.  Inside, Buster joined the howling chorus.  Yes, the dogs were doing their one job – GUARDING!

I’d been asleep for a bit over an hour – and in that groggy deep space where even though I knew I should get up, I kept hoping the dogs would simply settle down.

Then the phone rang.  Jeanne, next door, said, “They jumped my wall and they’re eating everything. The cows!  Now they’re in your yard.”  She was walking outside with her portable phone giving me a blow by blow report of the cattle escapade.  “There’s poop everywhere!”

“I’ll be right there,” I responded.  I’ve just got to throw on some clothes.

When I opened the front door, Buster tore off toward the tinkling bell one of the cattle has on his neck.  I rounded the corner behind him, just as Jeannie heaved a rock.  I dodged the rock and the cow made a dash out of the yard – right toward me.  Horns and all.  I leaped behind the F-150 and the cow kept on going.  One down, one to go.

I stepped into the yard and tried to shoo the second one out the now open fence, while Jeanne searched for more rocks.  How the fence got open, I have no idea.  Maybe the cattle pushed it open, but when the second intruder cleared the gate, I pulled it shut and reset the chain.

I reset the cylinder, sent a ‘good night’ to Jeanne, along with some shared belly laughs at our cow filled ‘hood’ and turned back to the house – only to step right in a fresh mound of cow poop!  GOODY!  Now I had to shower and wash my slippers and listen to the cling-cling of the belled-bull wander off into the night.

Still beats the 405 at rush-hour.

… too much time in baja! ….

(coming round again)

You my have spent too much time in Baja if:

You open the refrigerator and are stunned it’s not filled with Coronas.

You can’t drink anything unless it has a slice of lime.

It’s not a meal without salsa fresca and chips.

You greet everyone with “Hola” or “Buenas Dias”.

You keep trying to throw your toilet paper in the wastebasket.

There are too many paved roads in your neighborhood.

You go out to check the pila, but it’s not there.

The electricity stays on for days without an outage.

You suddenly understand your gardener and your maid.

You step outside to swim, and all you find is your lawn.

Your neighbors’ dogs are all on leashes and snarl instead of licking you.

There’s nobody riding in the back of pick-up trucks.

The phone interrupts your siesta hours.

You try to bargain with the butcher.

Your feet no longer fit in hard soled shoes.

You’ve forgotten how to wear a necktie.

You’re surprised to find all your groceries at one store.

You don’t need to make an ice run for the drink cooler.

Shrimp, shrimp, shrimp.  Is there any other food?

One hardware store carries everything.

You think nothing of driving the length Mex 1 in a day.

Your trips are measured by distance between gas stations.

Doritos are a poor substitute for the real thing.

Baja Rummy is actually a game.

A traffic jam means there are three cars stopped in front of you.

Your electric bill comes in the mail, instead of being stuffed in the fence.

You actually have a water meter.

You wake for sunrise because it is breathtakingly beautiful.

Dorado is both a fish and a style of taco shell.

Golf carts are used everywhere except on a course.

You start jonesing for fresh tortillas.

The guy who fixes your electric, also does your plumbing, builds your fence, plants your trees, looks after your house, and feeds your dogs when you are away.

No one has a doorbell and everybody stops by.

A palapa, a panga, and a hammock are three of your favorite places to be.

Your friends ask you when you’re coming home and you wonder if they’re crazy.

sup morning sup …

Sea of Cortez : Morning

morning paddle toward the island and back .. glassy seas and then winds and then swells and then glassy seas again ..

sting rays floating, then diving : brown boobies & blue footed boobies foraging, along side arctic terns : pelicans in formation with cormorants snug in their midst : tiny fish being chased by bigger fish : early divers out clamming : all around beauty, the mountains running down to kiss the sea ….

beach days are some of the best :-)

Pelican swoops into Isla Coronado Bay

Jeanne had this great idea – “Let’s take the boat over to Coronado for the day.  Picnic.  Swim.”  And so we did.  She barbecued chicken, tossed up a couple of salads, loaded the cooler with beer and a bottle of champagne and invited her friends.  That would include me :-), Norma, Tom, and next door neighbor Bill.  We put the boat in at the Marina in Loreto, Mark drove to the island with calm seas and clear skies.  Magic- a perfect day!

The Beauty of the Night Sky

Milky Way © Astronomy Online

One of the numerous gifts of Baja travel is an experience of the vastness of the night sky. Far from the metropolis light-killing kilowatts, the dark blanket of night spreads from horizon to horizon, all a twitter and a twinkle. In the darkness, the other sky – the star-filled night – transforms the heavens into a shimmering display of other-worldliness.

It’s been a long while since I spent much time stargazing. A lifetime of camping has been replaced with lodging in friends casitas and my own Loreto house.

This last week, when staying at my friend Cynthia’s, “Casa Baja Luna” on the Pacific Coast, a rage of sleeplessness found me wandering her back yard, my head cranked upwards, hypnotized by the reach of the Milky Way. I gazed as if I’d never seen it before, struck by the beauty, the immensity.

It felt as if I could reach my hand upward and pull back handfuls of stardust.

I was struck by the memories of lying in that same backyard on an old piece of sail, staring up at the sky, laughing at the wild world of it all ….

Jupiter and her four moons : Io, Europa, Ganymeded, and Calisto © Astronomy Online

Tonight, the moon caught the trails of a bright star – ah, no – a bright planet (bigger and brighter to the visible eye than most stars), and I couldn’t help but stop, grab the binoculars and see which planet had carved the shimmering trail across the glassy seas.

There was the planet, squarely in the lens of the binoculars, bright enough to convince me to find the spotting scope, pull up some ground and sharpen my gaze.  Magic.  Tripod and search.  Find and focus.  Ahhhhhhhh … Jupiter and her four moons.  Jupiter of pale pink striations across her surface.  Jupiter clearly in my glass.

Her four planets were lined in perfect order : Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Calisto.  Like greeting old friends : How had I stayed away so long?  For months I had chased the night sky cross Baja, learning – or attempting to learn- the ‘other map’ – the sky map.  The map as well defined as that of our planet for navigational purposes – I just don’t have quite the vehicle of say, “Startrek,” or “Starwars”  to venture in real body exploration.  My earthbound self has to be satisfied with the images caught by traveling satellites, the high-powered telescopes, and the stunning finds of orbiting Hubble.

Entranced again, I turned the spotting scope skyward and there, behind the blackness of the unassisted eye was that other world again.  The world where star after star fills the void, and there are more pinpoints of light than I could ever count.  “Campfires” the Indians used to call them, as if the Gods had lit lights for them to name and to follow.

That other map is still used by sailors who shun navigation by computer or GPS – and should be known by every sailor – “in case of” – the dreaded technological failure 🙂 When I traveled in both South America and South Africa, one of my vivid memories is of the southern cross – a constellation seen only on the other side of the equator.

What I found tonight was a re-romancing with the night sky.  A re-desiring to know/be able to name/to chart those heavens that come round every night after the sun leaves her brilliance with the rotation of the globe.  I turned from the stars, and there, caught in the corner of a palm, was the crescent moon.  She glowed yellow in the dark sky, but on closer examination, her brilliant white surface, pockmarked from years of encounter with the flotsam and jetsam of the universe, gleamed in the eyepiece of my lens.

A magic night.  A star-laden night.  A remembrance of how infinitesimally small we truthfully are in terms of the universe.

Morning SUP – Loreto

National Geographic Photo : Manta Ray

The waters around Loreto are usually pefect for SUPing – Stand Up Paddling. This morning was no exception. I took off on my fish – a 9’6″ Waterman – and headed up the coast toward Coronado Island. Winds were light and building, with lots of opportunities to refine my balance as wind driven waves crashed over the nose of the board.

Each stroke, a moment of zen.  A moving water meditation.


Morning delights:

Baby yellowtail chased by baby dorado.
Leaping spinning manta rays.
Translucent blue flying fish chased by baby yellowtail.
Magnificent frigate birds gliding overhead.
A floating crab. What was he doing so far from shore and/or on the surface?
Clam divers dragging innertubes – with seagull hitchhikers on board.
Bluefoot and brown boobies diving and gliding in search of fish.
Vultures on-shore, finishing off discarded fish carcasses.
Children on the beach, playing in the the shallows.
Horseback riders out for an early ride.
Dogs running and chasing sticks.
Boats speeding to and from Coronado and fishing spots.

A great two hour paddle floating on turquoise/cerulean waters, surrounded by offshore islands and the ridgeline of the Sierra Gigantica.  A perfect morning ……..