Winter Window

We look out the window often. It's hard not to with those waves and clouds pulling our attention like a magnet. Winter is here. It arrived late, but better late than never, right? California needs this rain, otherwise everyone will be drinking reclaimed sewage, and as delicious, clean, and healthful as it is touted to be, we still say no thanks. We'll gladly take the gray skies and the torrential downpours. Every now and then, the clouds part and the sky lightens up, like it did Tuesday morning, and we saw this.

Or later in the day, when we saw this. We came home from the market later in the afternoon and put the groceries on the table. Over Roger's shoulder I saw the Red-shouldered hawk on our neighbor's roof. These neighbors are in the process of building their home, so usually there's commotion with ladders, power saws, and hammers, but Tuesday was quiet. So the hawk came to hunt.
There's only one window in this old house I can photograph out of that hasn't already yielded to ancient, wavy glass. The photographs seem soft from being taken through the closed and rain-smudged window. I don't mind, I took seventeen photographs in the five minutes the hawk perched there.
All of the hawk's movement are found in the slight changes in the direction it looks. Its concentration is only broken by the barely perceptible click of the camera shutter.

That's when it turns its gaze on us, where we are looking out at it from the winter window. We have a rare moment when something wild looks back.

We ran into an old friend the other day. He's a decade older than Roger, and two decades older than I. We had a nice chat along the railroad tracks about the state of the world and politics. He said, "Oh you two still believe things will change. You know you're going to have to give that up. Things don't change. They really don't." I thought about it for a while, and suspect he is right. I hadn't realized how much I still held on to that hope that things would someday be just as we would like them. How silly such hope seems. Based on what would we nurture such desire?

Otter in a Stormy Sea

It's still raining. We've had enough rain to bring us up to average rainfall totals for winter here. But it is still not enough yet to prevent water conservation measures this summer. If things continue as they seem to be going now, though, Santa Cruz may finally see its water supply full. It is interesting to have so much rain falling in such a short amount of time. We try to get out and walk when there is a windy lull, which there happened to be on Saturday.
We headed out to the wharf, where we noticed this little sea otter riding in the waves. We said to each other that it seemed small and young. So I started to snap a few photos when it started to make plaintive cries.
I turned on the video to see if I could capture that sound, but you'll notice all we got was the sound of the wind. I think if you watch the video closely, and I apologize for the lousy quality, you'll see the otter raise its head several times out of the water. That's when it was crying. What a sound it was, as high as a gull's cry. Then, we noticed a larger otter off in the distance dive down under the waves.
Maybe we're making this story up. But it looked to us that the larger otter came over and brought the smaller one some food. A very kind and motherly gesture. We watched for a while.
The smaller otter stopped crying, and the larger one stayed a while beside it. We think that face has a very satisfied smile on it. But that could easily be an anthropomorphic assumption. Still, it's a story that works for us.

A few updates: We are fairly certain that the large fossil we found is whale bone. It was much too large and heavy for us to move. The beach is only accessible at minus tides, and the fossils are only sporadically uncovered and visible, as the sands shift often with storms.

The sunset photos were slightly (ever so slightly) enhanced by saturation, but that was only to recreate the sky as we saw it. Photos hardly ever represent what our eyes perceive. I tried to show what we saw. It was truly magnificent, and yes, almost psychedelic.

Finally, could anyone out there tell us succinctly what Barack Obama's platform is? He won a very great victory in South Carolina on Saturday, and we are glad for him. He's getting a lot of endorsements, and a lot of people talk about how he makes them feel, that he's inspirational, shows leadership, and who he reminds them of. But we're not sure he is a progressive liberal Democrat. Does anyone out there know for certain that he in fact is?

Sometimes we feel just like a little otter, out in a stormy sea.

Sunset Before the Storm

Wednesday night's sunset was about as spectacular as we've ever seen. A break between storms at the end of the day lit the sky and sea like this.

From the yard looking north

and south.

We haven't seen the sun since it sank into this sea, and don't expect it to show again until some time next week. We're expecting a large wind and rain storm on Friday and Saturday. This is real weather. The temps are in the low 40s, the wind rattles our single-pane windows, and everything that can creak in this ancient house, does. We're hoping we don't lose power. Our generator is back in Washington where this weather would make sense. Wish us luck.

Looking About

That red arrow is pointing to a quarter. We put it there for scale. Look at what the shifting sand revealed. It's been many years since we've seen such fine fossilized vertebrae. I liked the little bird footprints in the sand next to the bones. The whole rock was a perfect tableau of time.
We've been having very good rain. If we were still in Washington this weather would be part of an endless monotony of dreariness, but here it is a welcome quenching drench.

The sunlight breaks through the clouds brightly on the receding tide. Roger cuts the glare with his sunglasses, but I always stare straight into it.

Quiet

We're feeling very quiet, but we are fine. My mother is recovering incredibly well, and dearly appreciated all of your good wishes. We're paying attention to everything, including this, another Marbled Godwit on the shore at low tide.

A Call for Help

This post should have a photo of an eagle, but it doesn't. It has this, a photo of a Marbled Godwit. We don't see eagles here at the Capitola Beach, but yesterday we saw this fantastic Godwit. Still, this is a post about eagles. More than thirty of them. We received an email from Dave Dorsey of the Bird Treatment and Learning Center in Anchorage, Alaska. They are providing health care for thirty injured eagles, and they are in need of financial assistance. Dave asked if we would put a word out on our blog, and we said, "Absolutely." Head over to The Bird Treatment Learning Center and read about the work they are doing, and if you can, please consider sending them some money.

In other news, we did not watch the Democratic candidates debate. We don't have cable or satellite, and the wise folks at NBC who wouldn't let Kucinich participate, also decided that those of us without should be satisfied with regular programming. Feh. We watched a film called The Namesake and forgot all about the nasty business of our diminishing democracy. Did you watch the debate? Did we miss anything? Did Hillary cry? How was John Edwards' hair? Did Obama say the word change?

Suburbia Birds

above neighborhoods
shopping malls and parking lots
wild birds fly free

on backyard fenceposts
wee birds with their yellow rumps
stand out like candy

Update on life: My mom is out of the hospital. She's feeling much better, but tired. The doctors have no idea what's underlying her illnesses. There is a PET scan in her future. We're hoping for the absolute best outcome, of course.

Update on politics: We have become completely disillusioned, disgruntled, disheartened, and disenchanted. Don't like what's become of our democracy. We're old. We remember when it was not always like this. We are screaming most of the time. It's a good thing you don't hear us. We curse a blue streak.