Category Archives: Sunrises

December 31 .. The last day of 2010.

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Sunrise, Sea of Cortez, December 31, 2010

Last day, last sunrise of 2010.

Woke earlier than usual : 4:00 AM and what to do. Sleep filled and nothing left but to meditate and greet the new day in darkness.  Poured hot coffee and savored the quiet.  A crescent moon lingered with Saturn clinging to its sphere.  NASA reporting storms on the ringed planet .. new information on how things in the planetary world are created.

All the dogs come for morning treats, and still it’s dark.  They chew, I sip .. and then I give it over.  The hint of light coming from behind the island beckons me.  I tie the laces on my shoes, grab the camera and off we go, down the long beach toward the distant point.

The air is chilled and the wind still from the WSW as it has been for days.  The sea has been strange with this blow.  The beach houses block the wind right at the waters edge, creating surreal glassy pools, while just beyond the roof lines, ripples fan out toward the island and the open water.

The seabirds have been luxurious. Terns, cormorants, grebes, egrets, herons, an osprey .. pelicans, boobies, gulls, sandpipers, marbled godwits, sanderlings, lesser yellow legs.  As if everyone has come to celebrate the end of the year.  Even the dolphin have moved closer in the shallows, savoring the small bait fish that swim nearer to shore.

Estuary at Dawn

At the edge of the sea, and running westward to the Pacific, lies the gorgeous extremes of the Baja desert.  Dry and subtropical on the eastern shores, the climate and plantlife are part of the Sonoran region, a part of one of the the largest and hottest deserts in North America.  Tall cardon, a relative of the saguaro cactus stand like tall sentries amidst mesquite and paloverde trees.

Estuaries are common on the eastern shores, with wading birds in wild variety and large numbers.  Migratory birds, such as the Arctic Tern, make use of Baja for their winter home.

Buster and I walked into the morning light, solitary figures on the long stretch of beach that spreads north from town.  We walked for over an hour with not a single person in sight, but plenty of heron, egrets, pelicans and cormorants.

Heron gliding northward along the beach.

The squawk of the heron as Buster flushed him from the shallows echoed down the sandy shoreline. He landed again and again, only to pick up his wings again as we grew closer.

Finally, the sun slipped up behind the edge of Isla Carmen in a beautiful – if not momentary – display of color – before tucking behind a bank of clouds. We turned back toward home. I was thinking coffee … Buster was thinking dog treats.

Buster leads the way on our morning walk.

So began the last day of the year .. Filled with gratitude for all that has come to us, all the experiences, all the learning .. the friendships, the adventures, the joys, the challenges and the successes.

 

after the longest night

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the sun crested the isla carmen one minute earlier this morning : 7:14 instead of 7:15 .. yes, the shortest day and longest night have passed … there must be a metaphor in this.

the air is still and warm. no waves and hardly a ripple on the water. i find this magical, as i continue to drink in living in such close proximity to the water .. a constant that defies my emotional ups and downs, the comings and goings of friends, the wild off-road racer revving his engine somewhere in the distance, the cock-a-doodle do, and the grazing of cattle on the flowers and trees in my garden. i wish i could craft a plan – to do something more to protect her, to nourish her .. as i write that, i remind myself to listen .. that the messages are always present, it’s merely plucking one or the other from the chorus ..

a pelican dives for fish. his splash is another of the sounds that burn into my memory bank. yesterday hundreds of blue-footed boobies diving in formation like fighter planes .. my joy expands ..

from Steinbeck’s Log

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sunrise : isla carmen : sea of cortez

“One thing had impressed us deeply on this little voyage: the great world dropped away very quickly.  We lost the fear and fierceness and contagion of war and economic uncertainty.  The matters of great importance we had left were not important.  There must be an infective quality in these things.  We had lost the virus, or it had been eaten by the anti-bodies of quiet.  Our pace had slowed greatly; the hundred thousand small reactions of our daily world were reduced to very few.”

– John Steinbeck, The Log from the Sea of Cortez

Day One

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Palm Grove

Woke before the sun.  To match the approach of winter, she shifts her arc farther south, rising over the middle of Isla Carmen.  This morning, the skies were crystal clear, not even a breeze ruffled the surface of the Sea.

Walking north, the great heron stood – nearly as tall as me! – fishing on the shore.  Beyond him, the white egret, his cousins the fluffy egrets and a small herd of sanderlings shared the shallow feeding grounds.

I inhaled deeply the sea air.  Put my hands in the water and reminded myself to devote more energy to whatever means I can muster to both protect and enhance all the seas.  I feel my life path shift beneath me … I open my arms to the challenges of re-crafting a life beyond the mid-point.

This is day one of my move to Loreto.  The small city is now my residence; a change from my retreat.  Although in some ways, I suppose having my home as a retreat is actually quite awesome.  As I type from beneath the palapa on the beach, a flotilla of pelicans and blue footed boobies dive bomb in formation, the second set of feeders to entertain me this morning in these shallow waters.

Yesterday’s flight was late in departing Los Angeles.  A hilarious combination of a stuck gas valve, missing flight crew, changed planes, and then a push-back device that broke and could not be detached.  By the time the Horizon Air flight arrived in Loreto, the Mexican shippers I had hired had come and gone.  Gratefully, my neighbor Diane, had told them just to put the boxes in the space between the house and the garage.  The driver, Javier, called in the evening to confirm that I had arrived and that everything was okay.  Back to that leap of faith .. the trusting of those I had never met and only dealt with on the internet .. to delivery my belongings intact.

I’m thinking it’s that same leap of faith – the one that brought me to purchase this home five years ago against the advice of almost everyone – that has led me to this move.  The palms have grown taller.  The palapa fronds and tiles changed out.  I’ve come to embrace the idiosyncrasies – like no water for a day or two – that make living in Mexico unlike living in the states.

My intention for the day is absorption and rest.  My surroundings here on the edge of the sea inform what I feel is the best of me.  It’s taken a while to arrive.

A home by the sea …

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Dawn on the Sea of CortezThis first time I set foot on the property that was to become “Casa de Catalina,” my mind flashed a message : “This is where we come to get well.”

It had been a brutal year with the death of my brother and the loss of my mother’s home in the Laguna landslides.  My marriage was shaky and work had lost some of it’s glimmer.

As I stood in the patio of a home I was not quite sure I could afford, the message seemed so clear.  I could hear the voices of my friends laughter.  I could see their faces radiant with smiles.

And so it turned to be exactly that.  Little did I know then, that I’d find myself living in Loreto more than not, but life throws those curves, and an opportunity that I cannot resist has presented itself to me.

So now, sunrises on the Sea of Cortez every morning.  Beach walks with a small pack of dogs.  Great neighbors and the intimacy of a small community.  Waters teaming with life and beckoning for underwater – as well as above water – adventures.

I am reminded by all these twists in the pathway I had imagined, that there are few certainties .. but many open roads …..

Predawn Beach Walk

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sunrise

Sunrise over Sea of Cortez

Predawn clouds hang heavy over the water.  The dogs and I head north along the shoreline before the sun has crested the horizon.  It is cool, moist, and quiet.  The beach near the house is deserted. Maybe the natives are taking an extra hour of sleep on this lovely Sunday morning.

The usual ‘cast of characters’ greets us.  The pelicans, the terns, the flocks of gulls.  The sea is still in the early hour.  No wind yet ruffles the surface and one could be deluded into thinking it is a lake.

Last night, lightning storms provided a brilliant display over Isla Carmen, with bolts running the length of cloud to sea.  This morning, the left-over clouds drift as if untethered from anything.

For me, this morning is a walking meditation.  I begin with gratitude – how lucky I feel for friends, family, the chance to do creative work.  Grateful for the curious life I have chiseled out of the years that allows me to experience this very moment between night and morning.  This space on the sand next to the sea.

Sorrows slide through the same thought bank.  My brother Gly’s death just two years ago still marks a hollow spot.  Yesterday would have been his 59th birthday, and I miss him.  He was a gifted musician and a full-hearted soul who lost his way in a sea of substances that eventually took his life.

As if on cue, I notice three locals who, from the looks of things, have spent the night on the beach.  The area around their car is littered with empty beer cans, but still, they party on.  One of the young men plays a guitar and the others sing.

I think of how Gly would have liked it here.  His two great loves were fishing and music.   I wish he and I could have had the time to be here together.

I shake off the sadness and remember the joyful conversation with my sister, Claudia.  It was also her birthday yesterday, and she and her husband had taken their canoe to Magic Reservoir south of Bellvue, ID where they live to celebrate. Two years ago she had been here to celebrate my mom’s birthday and mine.  Photographs from that week brighten the walls of Casa de Catalina.

A young Mexican man casts a net over a school of leaping bait fish.  When he hauls the white line back, it is filled.  Buster and Shorty stop to inspect the shimmering silvery fish that spill from the net.  “Pescaditos”(tiny fish) I tease him, and he smiles in response.

The sun inches up over the water line and a shimmer of gold light mirrors on the water’s surface.  Day has begun its spin.  The dogs and I  finish our walk at a rocky point, then turn and head for home.  We play stick toss in the water on the way back.  Shorty’s not much for swimming, but Buster thrives on leaping into the water and retrieving what he finds. He drops his ‘catch’ on the beach and barks until it is again tossed.

As my morning meditation comes to an end, I find that I am again quiet inside, filled with a sense of fullness and peace with this life .. this finding my way one footstep at a time.

Here Comes the Sun

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Here Comes the Sun

Morning light. Soft. The winds subsided during the night, but are due again in the afternoon.  I wonder at the magic of starting every day like this – with homage to the space between night and day.  In the quiet stillness, the world shifting and energy racing until as the world turns once again toward the light.  Demons scatter.  The brilliance of the sun wipes clean the dark spaces and once again, the world is new.  Once again, everything is possible. On this new day, what magic can I manifest?  What dreams can I pull closer to reality?  What openings can I create in my heart?

Stillness and bird chatter begin the day ..

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Morning Light

Morning Light, Loreto

sun rises. dog snuggles.  hunkered down in the patio with laptop and laprobe.  cool crisp clean air.  the chatter of bird talk as finches, wrens and orioles flit tree to tree.  in the palm above me, the cooing of rock doves.  gentle splash as calm seas surge over beach stones.

pongeros head out for a day of fishing.   the loreto fleet of pelicans crash lands in front of me.  buster longs to catch one. ha ha ..

yes .. this is why i come here. …  coffee’s cold .. i must have been lost in thought ….