Where Two Worlds Overlap

 

Tidepool
Rocky Intertidal Shore (aka the Tide pools) at Cabrillo National Monument in San Diego, CA

 

Rocky Intertidal Shore
Two worlds in one, both to explore

Plants of sea and plants of land
Both live in this narrow band

Of sometimes sea and sometimes air
Opportunities to compare

Be careful when you move that rock
You may give a crustacean quite a shock

Plants’ and animals’ homes are here
So please don’t take a souvenir.

Take only pictures, leave only prints
It’s the only thing that makes good sense.

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Mother Ocean is My Cathedral

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Mother ocean is my cathedral

Shore birds are my chorus

Kelp adorns my altar.

Salt air is my incense

Rhythmic waves maintain my chants.

God’s wonder provides my sermon.

Sunset is my Amen.

None of this is really mine,

But any of us may borrow it

If we let our senses believe.

Monarch Butterflies: The Missing Link

The Monarch butterflies are not only beautiful and have an incredible migration each year, they are also a key indicator species. Our world would be much less without them.

Anima Monday

It’s February and the butterflies are getting restless. The earth is warming. Clumped together and clinging to trees they are getting hungry and impatient. They have spent the whole winter in a state of diapause — a kind of suspended animation where body functions slow to a bare minimum. It is fanciful idea but I think of them in the wintertime as being between realms: not quite alive, not quite dead. Which might be a familiar sensation. Each and every one of these butterflies learned about patience and discomfort when they transitioned from caterpillar to imago. Now as the sun begins to warm their bodies as well as the land they are waking up to remember who they are. Groups spontaneously rise up in practice flights only to settle back down again. But there is strength in their wings. They remember what it is to be alive.

“I think they…

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Face-Off

 

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Cows grazing between the Pacific Coast High and tht Pt. Sur Light Station

 

Your pasture has a Pacific view

But it seems to mean nothing for you

You turn your back and seem to stare

At the annoying people standing there

Taking pictures, disturbing your peace

Stop now! Will the clicking cease?

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The Ballad of Ginger and Trapper

Golden Retriever

Trapper was a golden retriever

Ginger

Ginger was a German wiimeraner.

Ginger and Trapper met in Seattle.

Immediate best buds, seldom a battle

Trapper was a dog, Ginger a gyp

Most of the time, they seemed joined at the hip

Until the day Ginger went into heat

Trapper soon learned that it was best to retreat

He didn’t seem interested, no sex on his mind

He didn’t even try to sniff Ginger’s behind.

Two weeks later, the gyp thought he’s the one

Demonstrating on Trapper how to get the job done.

He was the dog her dreams, she wanted his pups.

Trapper didn’t know to what she was up.

At end of her heat, she no longer cared.

When he laid down his best moves, he found her teeth bared.

His owner was pleased when Trapper finally found out

What being a boy dog should be all about.

Although, Trapper and  Ginger never got bred,

“You’re all male, Trapper,” his owner happily said.

Relief filled his owner, put a smile on his face

To find Trapper did things at his own pace.