A cold front blew in today (Sunday) in Southern California. Big-shouldered white clouds sometimes tangled up with soot-black ones. But I had decided last night to go to the beach. I wanted to watch the NSSA (National Scholastic Surfing Association) at Huntington Beach. On my way there, big splats of rain hit the windshield of my little red Miata, but I kept going.
Part of this was research for my WIP, so I had to do it, even if, dang, I had to go to the beach, you know?
When I got to Huntington, it was sunny but blowing like a wind tunnel. All I got to see were the sponsor booths and the judges stand being dismantled. The event was postponed due to dangerous, choppy conditions caused by the wind. I could've been bummed, but my favorite wetlands is just up the highway from this pier. So off I went to Bolsa Chica Ecological Reserve.
The wind howled across these inlets, creating a corrugated surface to the water. Least terns wheeled above. Seagulls took off, stalled and were pushed backwards, landing in defeat. They seemed a bit pissed about it, squawking and jostling.
After an ungraceful landing in the heavy wind, a great egret stalked a marshy area. A brown pelican sat out the blustery conditions. Some tiny bird I didn't recognize spiraled out of sight.
Even tiny woolly caterpillars got blown sideways and tumbled over as they tried to cross the dirt.
More than 300 species of birds have been sighted in the 1,700 acres protected here. About 95% of California's wetlands have been destroyed by development, making this a treasure. And, believe me, it had to be fought for. It had been dammed up, leased for oil drilling and slated for development.
Despite my jacket and hair whipping, my fingers chilled, I had a fabulous time. Sometimes being in wild conditions makes me feel most alive. It was jarring and spectacular.
And then I thought of the Gulf Coast and the oil that is now covering pelicans and eggs, the dead fish washing to shore, the oyster beds destroyed. And I am sad. All the natural beauty and wonder of this planet we hold in our hands. Whatever happens is our responsibility and our legacy.
We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors. We borrow it from our children. --Haida Indian saying.
