Peter and I had a fabulous day at the beach last Sunday. I’ve posted a couple of poems and a short video here to celebrate.
Surf at Bob Creek
About a million seagulls in hover-hold
over Bob Creek; about a million more
duck-diving salt water out of wings
down in fast-moving fresh water creek.
Sun beating down on high, turbulent
surf throwing its waves back like
about a million wild colts
in the spring when you’re up there
in the Kiger Range and you see them
running in a herd of young’uns, five
colors of blowing, tangled mane,
tails flying like spindrift blown
back off the big surf at Bob Creek.
Fish crows bucking winter wind like
Steens Mountain ravens riding
hot summer thermals down Big Indian Gorge.
Jan. 24, 2010
Sunset over Baker Beach
where the protected plover
hides its spotted eggs in the sand;
where on my fiftieth birthday we rode
stable horses on the beach
and I gave my black horse his head
and he charged the in-coming waves.
I still feel the lift of the sea
as we rose up
on the incoming wave.
One night at Baker Beach
a black bear
came down out of the hills
and crossed the road
like a dream animal,
giving us fair warning of the wild,
which is all around and never further
away than the clack of claws
The shuddering mist claims
what once was a fair day,
and all the light is falling
into the golden sink of the West.
Jan. 24, 2010