Thursday, June 7, 2012


Beauty on the Wing


I thought you were a lawn ornament–
brother to pink flamingos, so still, so silent.
I dared not blink in case I missed your blink,
Was that a thought I saw, a step in the water.
Ah, we have lift off,
beauty on the wing.
Santa Barbara May 25, 2012



Inlet Outlet



Mirrored sky and the brown of sheltering cliff,
a quiet inlet off a constantly shifting sea,
refreshed by the high tide,
stilled by the low,
home to herons, ducks, dragonflies, and photographers.


To See What I Could Sea



We have enough sand, but no beach;
enough waves, but they generally radiate off hot pavement.
We have moving air, but rather than the gentle off-shore breezes,
our wind is often fence-bending, sand-bearing, hair-ripping gales!
We have blue skies and even apparently lost seagulls,
but the forever horizon of the sea,
the constant, foaming refreshment of ocean tides,
they are not to be found among Joshua trees, newly raised subdivisions,
and maxed out thermometers.
So to the beach I go.
I look out to forget the manmade sea behind me.
I look out to remind myself that there is a wonder beyond my schedule.
I look out to look in
and clear the mind clutter to make room for a higher tide,
a fresh thought.

Pelican and seagull in synchronized dancing

You lookin’ at me?
Duets

Spirit Shadow


On days like this
when I’m feeling diminutive,
feeling like the task is bigger than my strength,
I am reminded that the Spirit is in me,
and His shadow looms larger than my ability,
and even larger than my will to do.


Sunset Silhouettes



Silhouetted against failing light–
soft, warm, and ambient light,
falling
with creeping shadows,
offering a variant sanctuary,
and you hover and dart,
frenetic as the day stills,
my busy and quick little consumer.


Saturday, June 2, 2012


Pelican Brief

Santa Barbara, CA 5-27-12
. . . with apologies to Grisham. :-)

Pelicans, Fishing for Compliments


I have never thought pelicans to be that beautiful a bird–maybe it’s something about that saggy, baggy jaw of theirs.
I’ve never been one to sing their praises when there was a song sparrow to be had, or a finch, or a jay, or an anything–really.
Sorry.
But here you are in an aerial ballet, a silhouetted arabesque against a blue, blue, above a blue, blue, and me below clicking away, mesmerized.
Dip, turn, skim.
Soar, plunge, gulp–okay, not so beautiful that last part.
But I have become a fan, won over by your faithful grace, and your elegant flight.