Some seabirds swoop, some hover and still others dive. They have their varied strategies for getting food. A heron will befriend a pier fisherman if it knows it’ll get a little fishy snack out of the deal. The birds have body shapes meant for their type of hunting and fishing. There must be many more fish than birds as much as these birds eat. I wonder where these seabirds sleep at night. Do they sleep at all?
The fish jumping in the cove of the bay between Sandestin and the main land were not shy whatsoever. Better then any bass or northern I had even seen in Minnesota. And they were strange fish. An ocean tends to breed variety.
Last night we saw lightning like skeleton fingers reach out of a sunset orange and darkening grey thunderhead in the east. We also saw the moon in a crescent in the west. It looked like a celestial showdown. The thunderhead got us out of the pool as the lightning seemed to be approaching. We believed the moon would not protect us at all from the lightning and so we didn’t take our chances.
There is something wonderful about swimming in the ocean. It is fun and dangerous. The idea that something so huge could be hospitable enough to welcome me into it is something special to consider. Who am I to get to be so involved. I feel the same way at the mountains of Colorado or the forests of Minnesota. What I do not like is the feeling after getting out of the ocean, but before getting a shower. It feels terrible. The sopping and heavy whatever I am wearing wants to rub and chafe and bother me. The saltiness of the sea remains on my skin, seaweed finds ways into my pockets, and the grit of sand is everywhere. I want it all off – now! The feeling is so annoying and miserable it make me wonder whether I really like the ocean. After the shower, I feel good again. I can love the ocean again. I think about when I can go back.