monterey bay

 Sometimes the ocean is like a quiet lake--Light plays with  wisps of winds on the deep blue canvas. The tide creeps in and out barely noticed even by the snails on the rocks.  If the plankton is not blooming, one can see straight down to the sea floor, where red starfish and moon jellies  mirror the universe above.  On days like these, its hard to imagine the other side of the sea, when all is upside down.


 I had not seen the wild side of her (the sea) until my first night back in the fall last year, but i had indeed been warned of winter storms by just about everyone.  Though the pump house had been used as an office, no one had every LIVED in here.

 In the dark of the night,  the sea began to roar and shake the very core of the little pump house.. The hollow well beneath the floor, churning with suction and vibration.
The spray of crashing waves hit the windows, already green with rust, like being inside a car wash.

The waves still rolling on by till they  reach shore.  what a place to live.

I love every minute of of.. And yet, i sleep with a therma rest as my headboard, a bit of flotation if it all goes crashing into the sea..
i am hoping not on my watch!