The paths by the sea are quiet this early in the day
As the sun rises over the Matanzas Bay Inlet,
Gifting golden rays to the eastern walls and trees.
Morning at Castillo de San Marcos
st augustine
Motus Interpellata
Building cloud cover above
And rumored rip current below
Infect each new resolution
With nebulous-consequence unease
Anticipation at Salt Run
Sailing skiffs, resting now too far aground,
Rely on the promise of an incoming tide,
While water joins sky in flushed expectation
Of sun’s regal rise o’er the eastern dunes.
Bird in Hand
Living less than a quarter mile from the ocean and my own beach access, it took a number of years before I thought to visit the small oceanside park on the coastal road about two miles south of my house, even though I pass it each time I drive to or from the bridge to the mainland. And then, one recent and still dark summer morning, upon completing my weekday exercise regimen early, it occurred to me to head over to the park to cool down in the surf there for a change and to check things out in general and maybe take some photos.
Parking in the small lot on the west side of the road, I walked across to the wooden walkway and followed it east. I soon realized though that I’d taken a wrong turn and should have veered north at a fork I had passed earlier. The walkway I was on ended at a small observation point sheltered from the elements by a weathered gazebo with a built-in bench. The route I had wanted to take was to my left, its white wooden railing rising above the tall grass before it and its steps down to the sea visible when I crouched and peered through the foliage just so.
I had meant to return to the walkway’s fork posthaste but then decided to first take advantage of my current location, so I made my way to the gazebo and sat on the bench. The sea was calm that day, the surf next to nonexistent, and there was a thin haze that brought a soft, dreamy feel to the watery world laid out before me. The sky was mist-softened as well and painted with a rosy wash nearest the sea, morphing gradually to a subtle yellow-tinged cream closer to heaven. When a line of seagulls flew by heading south just a foot or two above the water, I snapped two or three photos in quick succession. Then I lay the camera down next to me and relied on my eyes instead to capture a more panoramic scene than possible with the lens I had brought. I soon slipped into a soothing meditative state. After a short (or maybe a long) while, the sun appeared on the horizon like a god incarnate, blessing me with its celestial early morning presence. I became aware of my inextricable relationship to the sea, and to the sky, and to the sun, and to the universe.
Before the sun completely separated itself from the horizon, the memory of my original mission went off inside me like an alarm, filling me with an adrenalin rush and causing me to stand abruptly, collect my camera, and turn to retrace my steps to the fork. However, upon returning to a calmer state of mind and realizing that the mist would soon dissipate in the sun’s heat and that the dreamy colors would wash out in the brightening light, I chose instead to continue walking west past the turn, all the way back to the parking lot and my car for the short drive home.
Seduction’s End at Salt Run
Though retreating mist still clings to the eastern dunes,
And sailboats yet tug against moorings in the outgoing tide,
The rising sun is below the horizon by but two degrees,
And soon will end dawn’s dreamy promise of escape.
Love Trees
One life through two trees
Locked in unending embrace –
Hallowed matrimony
Garden Walk #2
Green lizard on green leaves
Pollinator stealth hunting –
Most serene unseen
Route 16 Feed Store
Get your southern pea seeds here in summer
And onion sets later in fall
You’ll need white seed potatoes in winter
And come before nine to get nothing at all
Spanish Street
Heading North on Spanish Street,
Having passed beneath the shade of its trees,
And its white washed walls and embowered balconies
That hug the narrow brick-paved street,
We pause to turn in contemplation,
As if we might gather up the solace we found here
Before we continue our journey toward home.
Balcony
Embowered by these unkempt oaks
This balcony serves well
To spy on life below but
Safe from annoying engagement.
