Although the sky had been brilliantly clear all day, an eerie fog enveloped us a mile from the beach—
the tangible passage to another world.

Because people are so scarce,
Nature rules, in a way that once was normal.
You understand that here.

The salt wind stirred the fog.
Objects emerged, then sank back into the haze.

GoGo settled into the sandy campsite,
and I crossed the dunes to the water.

Whenever sunset broke through eddies of fog,

sun dogs scampered on the sand.

By morning only wind-driven tatters of fog remained.

Other animals had beaten me to it.

Above the high tide line,
the record of last night's events remained.

Sea gulls patrolled the breakers, searching for food that couldn't fight back.

Sea gulls represent spare, fundamental, day-to-day life.
They operate simply:
find something easy to eat, and eat it.
To a gull, better to cuise for miles,
glide lightly on the sea breezes,
and eventually find something,
than to work bitterly hard for your food.
Use your wings,
and keep it simple.

The gray seals came close and studied me,
as eagerly as I studied them.

Seals are curious,
more curious than housecats,
but they have only a single life.
That never stops them from exploring and learning.
The timid consider that imprudent,
but in reality,
seals live courageously true to their nature.
They are the definition of courage:
be who you are, in the face of anything.

Cormorants and sea gulls coexisted peacefully, well off shore.

Cormorants spend their days posing and preening.
It's rare to see them fly,
or fish for their dinner,
or care for their young.
They stand in groups, in some safe place,
arranging their feathers,
stretching their wings in the sun.
Yet they thrive.
Their livelihood is hidden;
they never look like they're working.
Their supreme competence
resembles relaxation.

Pelicans cruised low above the deeper waters.

Pelicans: large, strong sea birds.
They carry themselves as though very intelligent.
They aren't speedy fliers,
but their power is evident.
They travel in formations of
a dozen or more,
or in pairs,
or completely alone.
They are so socially talented
they are comfortable,
whether in crowds or in solitude.
They are the wolves of the beach—
wonderful in packs,
with an occasional, interesting loner.

A mile beyond the tide pools stood Punta Gorda Lighthouse.

Tidepools behave as a species of animal.
Complex animals have many organs,
so a tide pool has distinct creatures
—starfish, hermit crabs, barnacles—
which unconsciously cooperate
and become a complex being.
Twice a day, as the tides rise and fall,
the pools remake themselves,
fresh selves every 13 hours.
Tidepools lack any understanding
of guilt or pessimism.

This turkey vulture came from a long way off— perhaps to pose,
more likely to see if I would be ready to eat soon.
Not today, my brother! Not today!

Turkey vultures circle in pairs, very distant from each other,
suddenly looping close, then separating again.
Sometimes at great height, sometimes buzzing the treetops,
vultures are masters of perspective.
They freely choose,
lofty overview or close-up detail.
They ride sea breeze and warm updraft.
They glide between different worlds,
riding invisible currents of energy
which come from outside themselves.
They represent great mastery.

Mendocino Lost Coast Redwood Forest