There’s a reason I haven’t posted a blog for what seems like several millennium. Last June my foot innocently started to hurt. Hurt to walk, visit to doc; to make a long story short, after a few weeks I was diagnosed with a “stress fracture in the 2nd metatarsal of my left foot”. In other words foot was broke. I wish I could say that I broke it doing something heroic or at least daring but the truth is that I don’t know how it broke though I have a couple of theories.
So I was in a boot I couldn’t walk in and was forbidden from as much as stepping onto the beach for the whole summer. I was good; I only went once. Got some strange looks walking along the surf in my boot but I’m used to strange looks so no big deal.
So finally, finally, boot out, beach in. Celebration. Back to beachcombing for trash, in time for winter storms and birds. I so missed it! I really am a beachcomber at heart. When I was a kid and we vacationed on the beach I spent all my time looking for shells. Now it’s trash but beach trash can be cool. I mean, not the fact that we’re so polluting the planet that even the vast ocean isn’t spared, or the fact that sea turtles, marine mammals, birds and other creatures are suffering because we’re too lazy to take a bag to the store to buy things we often don’t need to begin with. But the possibilities. I admit that I much prefer picking up the trash mixed in with seaweed or that was otherwise obviously washed up. Candy wrappers with Asian writing. Local or from across the sea? Bright yellow bits of fishing line . Occasional sea glass. Unidentified objects.
Then there’s nature watching. Bull kelp, sea palm, shells, jellyfish, birds. The sanderlings are back and this year I’m very cautious about not disturbing them. And, extra extra read all about it, I saw my first snowy plover! In the very early morning just after the sun came up.
And then there’s the crabs. Two live ones, I think Dungeness. Right before that, for about two weeks or so, for some reason the beach was littered with dead crabs. The birds had a great time gourmeting on them. The beach was one big crab feast. So while I felt a little sad for the crabs in a way I didn’t. The crabs lived, enjoyed, and died and the birds were nourished and life, in the macro sense, goes on. Made me think a lot about life cycles, death and food/vegetarianism . Factory farming is destructive no matter which way you look at it but venison? Local venison or soy from who knows where? I think mostly vegetarianism is a great overall choice if for no other reason that where there’s animal agriculture there’s suppression of top predators. And there are other good reasons. But sometimes it’s not so clear-cut. The problem is, most of what we eat (wear, travel, fill-in-the-blank) is not sustainable simply because too many of us are doing it.
Balloons! A lot of what I’ve been picking up is remains of balloons, often with ribbons attached. One group was obviously from the same party. Two in one bunch of seaweed, another later on, then another. Etc. People release balloons to the sky, but the balloons don't dissolve into thin air. They fall back to earth, to the ocean. Wild animals eat them, by mistake or by filter feeding. The most ironic thing I saw on the beach was a dead Earth balloon. I pick them up and think, this one is unnecessary. Balloons are happy, but so are flowers music laughing playing.
So much more that I want to say but one thing that’s not limited is the number of blogs I can write. I’m back and not going away anytime soon (as far as I know). So enjoy the nice day and the Giant’s victory and the fact that we are alive and have the ability to reflect on our actions.
Till we meet again…
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Monday, May 31, 2010
Contrasting Days
Thursday it was raining on and off, and I was on and off about going, all the way on the bus and up until I stepped on the beach. It was raining. I was sure it was about to stop but heavy downpours kept happening. When I finally got on the beach it started hailing but the raincloud was long and narrow and looked like it was on its last legs so I decided to stay. I'm glad I did because it almost immediately cleared up and the cloud show was amazing. I also feel more useful cleaning up after a storm because I get to pick stuff out of the surf that would otherwise get washed back. Big sheet of shredded black plastic, the usual exploded pens, candy wrappers, plastic bags, etc. I also get to walk by the water without feeling that I should be farther up the beach where more trash is. I know it's only a virtual drop in the ocean but maybe that drop saves a sea turtle or two.
This is as much about getting to know Ocean Beach as picking up trash, however. Saw a lot of kelp washed ashore after the storm, kinds I've read about but not seen yet, like palm kelp which looks like minature palm trees, and a long feathery-rubbery strands. Boa kelp? As soon as it cleared up more people (and dogs) started coming out. Waiting for the chance after the storm.
Saturday I got there about 7:30 a.m. or so. Sunny and already warm. Low tide with lots of patches of beach between water. Sand dollars scattered all over.
The embarassing part. I came upon what I thought was a stranded seal, on the beach near the water. I walked up maybe 100 feet from it and it didn't move, it just looked at me. I didn't know what to do. I figured the Marine Mammal Center wouldn't be open yet, so I walked/ran about a half hour to the Beach Chalet where I figured I might find a Park Police person or two, all the while worrying about the animal in what was starting to be a warm day. I did find some park people getting ready to empty trash cans who referred me to the Marine Mammal Center. I called and they do have a 24 hour line. It's in my cell phone now. The person who answered was nice and he asked me a few questions. I walked back and there was no trace of the "seal". I read a flyer later and it was probably fine. I thought it wasn't because it let me get so close without disappearing into the surf, but I now think it was perfectly fine and that it wasn't a seal at all but a Stellar Sea Lion. Now I wish I had known so I could've enjoyed seeing a marine mammal up close.
One point of writing this: if you see a possibly stranded marine mammal, call the Marine Mammal Center at (415) 289-7325. This is assuming you're in the SF Bay area. Don't touch the animal or try to push it back in (I assume this is self-evident but just in case). Whales are the animals most likely to be stranded but the person you talk to will know what to ask you. Do know where you are so you can tell them (obvious but I had to go to the street to see where I was).
I'm finally keeping my promise to make the beach alive to you, species by species. Because I promised, I'm starting with sand dollars. I'm starting with these because I've noticed that a lot of people look at sand dollar skeletons and see a decoration, not the remains of an animal. Sand dollars are sea urchins who adapted to a life burrowed in the sand by becoming flat. The hard white shell is the skeleton. Sand dollars start out as eggs (the idea of an adult sand dollar laying eggs boggles the mind), then swimming larvae, part of the microscopic part of the ocean food chain known as plankton. As larvae they can clone themselves if necessary. When the larvae become adults they live around the low-tide line, either buried in the sand or sticking out of it sideways. They can creep a little and bury themselves when the need (or mood?) arises. In fact, the flower patterns actually enable locomotion, when they're alive. When they're alive, they're dark colors with hairy cilia covering their body. They eat by filtering microscopic organisms out of the seawater, and (unwillingly) provide food for sea stars, flounder, cod and other botton-feeding fish.
I get updates from the Audobon Society about the world-changing Gulf oil crime, because I signed up to be a volunteer if needed. They're nowhere near needing an out-of-shape volunteer with no skills who doesn't live in the area but they send out updates occasionally. An important part of their advice to potential volunteers not in the area are to take care of the wild places where you are. We need to do that, in so many local and global ways, starting with a hard look at ALL of our consumer habits. Starting now. Starting here, where ever here is. I am doing this. And I can do better. And I'm working on it.
Until next time...
This is as much about getting to know Ocean Beach as picking up trash, however. Saw a lot of kelp washed ashore after the storm, kinds I've read about but not seen yet, like palm kelp which looks like minature palm trees, and a long feathery-rubbery strands. Boa kelp? As soon as it cleared up more people (and dogs) started coming out. Waiting for the chance after the storm.
Saturday I got there about 7:30 a.m. or so. Sunny and already warm. Low tide with lots of patches of beach between water. Sand dollars scattered all over.
The embarassing part. I came upon what I thought was a stranded seal, on the beach near the water. I walked up maybe 100 feet from it and it didn't move, it just looked at me. I didn't know what to do. I figured the Marine Mammal Center wouldn't be open yet, so I walked/ran about a half hour to the Beach Chalet where I figured I might find a Park Police person or two, all the while worrying about the animal in what was starting to be a warm day. I did find some park people getting ready to empty trash cans who referred me to the Marine Mammal Center. I called and they do have a 24 hour line. It's in my cell phone now. The person who answered was nice and he asked me a few questions. I walked back and there was no trace of the "seal". I read a flyer later and it was probably fine. I thought it wasn't because it let me get so close without disappearing into the surf, but I now think it was perfectly fine and that it wasn't a seal at all but a Stellar Sea Lion. Now I wish I had known so I could've enjoyed seeing a marine mammal up close.
One point of writing this: if you see a possibly stranded marine mammal, call the Marine Mammal Center at (415) 289-7325. This is assuming you're in the SF Bay area. Don't touch the animal or try to push it back in (I assume this is self-evident but just in case). Whales are the animals most likely to be stranded but the person you talk to will know what to ask you. Do know where you are so you can tell them (obvious but I had to go to the street to see where I was).
I'm finally keeping my promise to make the beach alive to you, species by species. Because I promised, I'm starting with sand dollars. I'm starting with these because I've noticed that a lot of people look at sand dollar skeletons and see a decoration, not the remains of an animal. Sand dollars are sea urchins who adapted to a life burrowed in the sand by becoming flat. The hard white shell is the skeleton. Sand dollars start out as eggs (the idea of an adult sand dollar laying eggs boggles the mind), then swimming larvae, part of the microscopic part of the ocean food chain known as plankton. As larvae they can clone themselves if necessary. When the larvae become adults they live around the low-tide line, either buried in the sand or sticking out of it sideways. They can creep a little and bury themselves when the need (or mood?) arises. In fact, the flower patterns actually enable locomotion, when they're alive. When they're alive, they're dark colors with hairy cilia covering their body. They eat by filtering microscopic organisms out of the seawater, and (unwillingly) provide food for sea stars, flounder, cod and other botton-feeding fish.
I get updates from the Audobon Society about the world-changing Gulf oil crime, because I signed up to be a volunteer if needed. They're nowhere near needing an out-of-shape volunteer with no skills who doesn't live in the area but they send out updates occasionally. An important part of their advice to potential volunteers not in the area are to take care of the wild places where you are. We need to do that, in so many local and global ways, starting with a hard look at ALL of our consumer habits. Starting now. Starting here, where ever here is. I am doing this. And I can do better. And I'm working on it.
Until next time...
Monday, May 24, 2010
A month later
It's been a while since my last blog. I've been still going to Ocean Beach to clean up a couple times a week, but was thrown a little by Life, particularly my Census job. Setting my own hours seems like it would leave me more time to beachandblog but between our morning meetings and our late afternoon/early evening window to do the work, and my talent for making 25 actual hours into more like 45, well you get the idea.
I was thinking about going early this morning but now I'm glad I didn't. A little while ago I read online that a couple got killed in a boating accident this weekend, and the man washed up on Ocean Beach this morning.
So much has happened this month. The Gulf oil spill is so vast, in so many senses, that I don't feel like anything I can say, at least right now, would add to what's been said, thought, or felt. One thing I will say is that I signed up with the Audobon Society to volunteer if I'm needed. So far they don't need unskilled people not from the area but they send us emails from time to time. The last one had some good advice. The birds at the site, a lot of them migrate. What we can do, one thing, is to protect habitat where we are.
So today I'll keep it local and talk about what I did on the day after Earth Day, while the oil was escaping into the Gulf but before most of us, anyone reading this, knew what was happening. I've been spending so much time on the beach watching and wondering that I decided to pay the money to go to the Aquarium by the Bay at Fisherman's Wharf. I was standing in line for a ticket when someone asked me if I were alone, and when I responded affirmatively, gave me a free ticket. I think he was holding it for someone who never showed up. At first I didn't understand, so I hope he knew how much I appreciated it.
I really wanted to see this aquarium because it focuses on the Bay. It has a few other exhibits but their jewel is a building-length tunnel of animals that live in the Bay. I stayed there a long time, watching shellfish and scaled fish, trying to learn who they were and what relation they had to each other. It is somewhat artificial in that they feed the animals well enough so that the predator/prey relationships that drive the animals in the wild don't exist. Although it's like a living museum more than a slice of life it gave me a picture of what it looks like under the water when I'm on the beach looking west, something I didn't have before. The other part of the exhibit I loved was the jellyfish, oh the jellyfish. They were in a ceiling-to-floor column and were mersemizing. It was hard to pull away.
There was also information on how much garbage goes into the Bay and what it does. Depressing and inspiring. I took notes but the particulars aren't with me at the moment but I'll post them. Really. Earlier in the spring they had a free week for residents and I have a feeling it's probably annual.
On the beach itself, the shorebirds are gone off to places like the Arctic to make more baby shorebirds. I'm understanding what I'm seeing more now and even with the shorebirds gone this included, so far, an ochre sea star early in the morning, right at the wave end of low tide, a raven on a sand dune about a foot from me, the same day a crow who looked directly at me, pecked at a piece of rope, and flew away. I felt like s/he was telling me about something to pick up. I don't pick up shells and rocks to take home but I made an exception for a dogwinkle turned into a rock.
Now that I'm back to posting again, I will post twice a week, with more about my attempts to live more in harmony. I do work next week for a couple of weeks, but it's regular hours and when it's done, it's done!
Until then...
I was thinking about going early this morning but now I'm glad I didn't. A little while ago I read online that a couple got killed in a boating accident this weekend, and the man washed up on Ocean Beach this morning.
So much has happened this month. The Gulf oil spill is so vast, in so many senses, that I don't feel like anything I can say, at least right now, would add to what's been said, thought, or felt. One thing I will say is that I signed up with the Audobon Society to volunteer if I'm needed. So far they don't need unskilled people not from the area but they send us emails from time to time. The last one had some good advice. The birds at the site, a lot of them migrate. What we can do, one thing, is to protect habitat where we are.
So today I'll keep it local and talk about what I did on the day after Earth Day, while the oil was escaping into the Gulf but before most of us, anyone reading this, knew what was happening. I've been spending so much time on the beach watching and wondering that I decided to pay the money to go to the Aquarium by the Bay at Fisherman's Wharf. I was standing in line for a ticket when someone asked me if I were alone, and when I responded affirmatively, gave me a free ticket. I think he was holding it for someone who never showed up. At first I didn't understand, so I hope he knew how much I appreciated it.
I really wanted to see this aquarium because it focuses on the Bay. It has a few other exhibits but their jewel is a building-length tunnel of animals that live in the Bay. I stayed there a long time, watching shellfish and scaled fish, trying to learn who they were and what relation they had to each other. It is somewhat artificial in that they feed the animals well enough so that the predator/prey relationships that drive the animals in the wild don't exist. Although it's like a living museum more than a slice of life it gave me a picture of what it looks like under the water when I'm on the beach looking west, something I didn't have before. The other part of the exhibit I loved was the jellyfish, oh the jellyfish. They were in a ceiling-to-floor column and were mersemizing. It was hard to pull away.
There was also information on how much garbage goes into the Bay and what it does. Depressing and inspiring. I took notes but the particulars aren't with me at the moment but I'll post them. Really. Earlier in the spring they had a free week for residents and I have a feeling it's probably annual.
On the beach itself, the shorebirds are gone off to places like the Arctic to make more baby shorebirds. I'm understanding what I'm seeing more now and even with the shorebirds gone this included, so far, an ochre sea star early in the morning, right at the wave end of low tide, a raven on a sand dune about a foot from me, the same day a crow who looked directly at me, pecked at a piece of rope, and flew away. I felt like s/he was telling me about something to pick up. I don't pick up shells and rocks to take home but I made an exception for a dogwinkle turned into a rock.
Now that I'm back to posting again, I will post twice a week, with more about my attempts to live more in harmony. I do work next week for a couple of weeks, but it's regular hours and when it's done, it's done!
Until then...
Monday, April 19, 2010
Beach day!
Sunday I went to an interesting talk on homeopathic medicine at the local coop food store, Other Avenues, so I got to the beach, empty bread bags ready to go, around 2:30. A beautiful warm weekend day so I expected a lot of people to be there but I was astounded by what I saw. It looked more like a popular East Coast seashore (my frame of reference) than like Ocean Beach. People everywhere: sunning themselves on the dunes, on the beach, playing baseball and frisbee, children making creative sandcastles and tentatively playing with the waves, dogs, couples strolling along the water...
Honestly, so many people were there that if it weren't for my trash project I probably would have turned around and gone somewhere else. The beach didn't even have as much trash as some days. The crowds made it hard in some cases to decide what was indeed abandoned. Are the children who made the sandcastle coming back for the can they were using? I hope so. I did completely fill both bags I came with, so I'm content with what I did.
I wonder who else is doing the indie trash pick-up thing. Besides the beach being pretty clean, I noticed bags in the trash cans near the street that I had nothing to do with. I'm speculating that at least some of them are from trashpickers like me.
With all the frolicking people there were no wading birds. In spite of the people it made the beach feel lonely, not like the same beach. I worried about the birds; I hope they were able to find another good place to get nourished. I particularly worried about the plovers. I know that people on the upper beach and in the dune areas are more likely to disturb them. I also know that the people sunning themselves, drumming, and enjoying the day weren't aware of this.
I know this, but I did have the feeling yesterday that the beach wasn't being perceived for what it is, an ecosystem to use the scientific term, a home for an interconnection of non-humans, to describe it another way, but instead as a another stage for the human drama.
I know I promised an update on my trash elimination program. Next post I will. Let's just say that I am making progress, particularly in the area of plastics. Next time. I also didn't forget about my promise to start talking about individual species on the beach, starting with sand dollars. Soon.
Honestly, so many people were there that if it weren't for my trash project I probably would have turned around and gone somewhere else. The beach didn't even have as much trash as some days. The crowds made it hard in some cases to decide what was indeed abandoned. Are the children who made the sandcastle coming back for the can they were using? I hope so. I did completely fill both bags I came with, so I'm content with what I did.
I wonder who else is doing the indie trash pick-up thing. Besides the beach being pretty clean, I noticed bags in the trash cans near the street that I had nothing to do with. I'm speculating that at least some of them are from trashpickers like me.
With all the frolicking people there were no wading birds. In spite of the people it made the beach feel lonely, not like the same beach. I worried about the birds; I hope they were able to find another good place to get nourished. I particularly worried about the plovers. I know that people on the upper beach and in the dune areas are more likely to disturb them. I also know that the people sunning themselves, drumming, and enjoying the day weren't aware of this.
I know this, but I did have the feeling yesterday that the beach wasn't being perceived for what it is, an ecosystem to use the scientific term, a home for an interconnection of non-humans, to describe it another way, but instead as a another stage for the human drama.
I know I promised an update on my trash elimination program. Next post I will. Let's just say that I am making progress, particularly in the area of plastics. Next time. I also didn't forget about my promise to start talking about individual species on the beach, starting with sand dollars. Soon.
Beach Spirituality
I went in the morning on Friday, though not quite as early as I intended. The beach is different everytime I go. Weekday mornings I see people fishing, which reminds me that there is life in that ocean, non-human life with different sensory experiences, ways of thinking, and ways of surviving. It's good to stay aware that we share the neighborhood with beings who are not us. And do what we can to help them to survive.
I have so much to learn. What I thought was a low tide the other day was nothing like Friday. The other day must have been more of a medium tide. I was going by all of the "garbage and the flowers" left from a higher tide. Friday morning the mudflats went a long way out. With fewer people the wading birds let me get closer to them than usual. I was careful to stay calm and slow, and ready to go farther away if I started to bother them but they didn't seem to mind. Since I don't have binoculars and my long-distance glasses have about had it (and don't have a camera for those who are wondering) this was a major boon to my infant observational skills. I think what I'm seeing are primarily willets, but don't hold me to that.
One thing that I did identify was all of the cigarette butts on the path leading to the water. They might have come from people having one last puff before recreating, most of them probably did, but in my reading I found out that trash we leave on the street. like cigarette butts, can wash into storm drains and from them to the ocean. So if you smoke, please don't throw the butts and other trash onto the street. Some things we do really are little, and cumulative.
On days of few people the beach attracts/elicits spirituality of all kinds. Wednesday or Thursday someone had written a message about Jesus in the sand. Today I saw a pentagram with a sand dollar in the dead center, and two separate people were doing the yoga poses, Salute to the Sun. I can see why the wild edge of the city, looking out onto open spaces leading to everywhere, with rhythms controlled by the moon and the wind, has this effect.
After I put my two full bread bags into the trash and was in the bathroom washing my hands, I ran into another spiritual person, a friend of a friend who lives across town in some kind of nontraditional housing. She was there to collect bottles, etc. to sell to make part of her living. I talk about consuming less and don't do too badly in that direction, comparatively, but she really walks the walk. We talked about the friend, who I hadn't seen in a while. I need to call her and reconnect. More beach spirituality working it's mojo.
I have so much to learn. What I thought was a low tide the other day was nothing like Friday. The other day must have been more of a medium tide. I was going by all of the "garbage and the flowers" left from a higher tide. Friday morning the mudflats went a long way out. With fewer people the wading birds let me get closer to them than usual. I was careful to stay calm and slow, and ready to go farther away if I started to bother them but they didn't seem to mind. Since I don't have binoculars and my long-distance glasses have about had it (and don't have a camera for those who are wondering) this was a major boon to my infant observational skills. I think what I'm seeing are primarily willets, but don't hold me to that.
One thing that I did identify was all of the cigarette butts on the path leading to the water. They might have come from people having one last puff before recreating, most of them probably did, but in my reading I found out that trash we leave on the street. like cigarette butts, can wash into storm drains and from them to the ocean. So if you smoke, please don't throw the butts and other trash onto the street. Some things we do really are little, and cumulative.
On days of few people the beach attracts/elicits spirituality of all kinds. Wednesday or Thursday someone had written a message about Jesus in the sand. Today I saw a pentagram with a sand dollar in the dead center, and two separate people were doing the yoga poses, Salute to the Sun. I can see why the wild edge of the city, looking out onto open spaces leading to everywhere, with rhythms controlled by the moon and the wind, has this effect.
After I put my two full bread bags into the trash and was in the bathroom washing my hands, I ran into another spiritual person, a friend of a friend who lives across town in some kind of nontraditional housing. She was there to collect bottles, etc. to sell to make part of her living. I talk about consuming less and don't do too badly in that direction, comparatively, but she really walks the walk. We talked about the friend, who I hadn't seen in a while. I need to call her and reconnect. More beach spirituality working it's mojo.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
beginnings, and also, what am I seeing? so much to learn
I went back to the beach yesterday, from about 4:30 to around 6:00. Before I left I grabbed a bag with a bunch of plastic bags in it, to use for clean-up, but when I got there I found out that I didn't really have that any biggish ones left, so I couldn't pick up that much. Interesting dilemma. I can get plenty from other people, but I don't want to encourage them to use bags, either. Right now I'm using up my past cereal/bread/etc bags. I can get these from other people while encouraging them to use as few as possible. Unfortunately, there's plenty to go around. This will be a good opportunity to tell people what I'm doing, and why using plastics is harmful.
It was a beautiful day, low tide, lots of sun and few clouds. Enough of a breeze so I saw a supergiant monarch butterfly fluttering by. Huh? Double-take. Oh, a kite. Pretty.
Suprisingly few birds foraging in the mud. A few sanderlings (I think), at least one willet (I saw the black-and-white when it took off), a few birds like willets without the black-and-white, an occasional gull overhead. A raven or two (or crow?). But not like a few days ago. Then I saw something really sad. Near the water, a little south of where I started in the area of Judah, was a beautiful bird, dead, on its back with its long neck twisted and its white breast feathers exposed. I'm trying to observe what I can and look animals and plants up later but I didn't have the heart to observe this more closely. I'm still haunted by it.
I also saw lots of crab evidence (aka shells), some sand dollars, clams, a little rockweed, surfers, dogs, families, ships in distance, more kites...
To the person who left the two empty beverage bottles standing up at the edge of the ocean, didn't y0ur mother teach you any better than to mess up others' homes? Please think next time. If you happen to be reading this.
While I still had bag space and was studiously scanning the beach for alien objects, a surfer came up to me and thanked me. I was embarrassed; it isn't exactly a chore being on the beach on a sunny day, but thanks for thanking me. If you happen to be reading this.
Also thanks to the guy who was going through the trash looking for recyclables. What you're doing for money is harder and a lot more useful than most office jobs I've had. You're right, it's too bad people don't take a second and put the bottles in the place meant for them. Stay safe.
On my way out I was watching some land birds, one of which was carrying some dried plant materials. Tis the season to make nests.
I'm typing this on a computer in a cafe with iced coffee poured into one of those plastic cups they use that I brought in with me from some previous purchase. Next time I'll talk about my efforts to really truly eliminate trash, especially of the plastic kind, from my life. And maybe sand dollars as living things? If not next post, then soon.
It was a beautiful day, low tide, lots of sun and few clouds. Enough of a breeze so I saw a supergiant monarch butterfly fluttering by. Huh? Double-take. Oh, a kite. Pretty.
Suprisingly few birds foraging in the mud. A few sanderlings (I think), at least one willet (I saw the black-and-white when it took off), a few birds like willets without the black-and-white, an occasional gull overhead. A raven or two (or crow?). But not like a few days ago. Then I saw something really sad. Near the water, a little south of where I started in the area of Judah, was a beautiful bird, dead, on its back with its long neck twisted and its white breast feathers exposed. I'm trying to observe what I can and look animals and plants up later but I didn't have the heart to observe this more closely. I'm still haunted by it.
I also saw lots of crab evidence (aka shells), some sand dollars, clams, a little rockweed, surfers, dogs, families, ships in distance, more kites...
To the person who left the two empty beverage bottles standing up at the edge of the ocean, didn't y0ur mother teach you any better than to mess up others' homes? Please think next time. If you happen to be reading this.
While I still had bag space and was studiously scanning the beach for alien objects, a surfer came up to me and thanked me. I was embarrassed; it isn't exactly a chore being on the beach on a sunny day, but thanks for thanking me. If you happen to be reading this.
Also thanks to the guy who was going through the trash looking for recyclables. What you're doing for money is harder and a lot more useful than most office jobs I've had. You're right, it's too bad people don't take a second and put the bottles in the place meant for them. Stay safe.
On my way out I was watching some land birds, one of which was carrying some dried plant materials. Tis the season to make nests.
I'm typing this on a computer in a cafe with iced coffee poured into one of those plastic cups they use that I brought in with me from some previous purchase. Next time I'll talk about my efforts to really truly eliminate trash, especially of the plastic kind, from my life. And maybe sand dollars as living things? If not next post, then soon.
just picking up trash (new blog)
skip to main | skip to sidebar beachcomber for a wild ocean
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
(New blog, take two. My first title didn't work for me. This works better.)
So how does one gracefully start a blog? I guess the answer is that you don't always start it gracefully. You just do it.
Okay. In the beginning ... that line's already been taken.
Well, in the beginning, which in this case is last week, I went to Ocean Beach (in San Francisco) for the first time in awhile. The amount of trash was disturbing. I resolved to come back with bags and do something to clean up some of it.
For a change I kept my resolution. The next day, even. And the day after, and the day after that, and on to Sunday morning, in the rain.
And realized that the bag of trash I've committed to picking up most days is only going to go so far. Displacing this small amount of trash to a landfill and hoping it stays in place isn't a bad thing but something more is definitely needed, something like colllectively re-learning to not produce the waste in the first place.
As is glaring obvious, to live waste-free in this culture as it's currently organized is like, well, like swimming upstream. Although I don't exactly have a history of taking to change easily, the time I spend everyday (almost) picking up pieces of plastic which would otherwise be mistaken for food by a wild animal keeps it real. Especially since I have to leave so much on the beach, and I know that the trash on the beach is such a small part of what's out there, and I also see around me life, and the evidence other life, that could get hurt by eating this stuff, and it hurts me.
Abstract isn't such a strong motivator. Actuality is more of one.
Everyone has different motivators for making the changes that we need to make, as a culture, and different entry points. This, my first ever blog, will be the story of mine.
This blog will be about picking up trash on the beach, but it won't. It will be about the details of this particular piece of earth as I learn more about it; the temperature of the air, the colors of the water, and above all, the life that I observe and piece together information about from shells and birds and fisherfolk and seaweed and also websites and books. And the trash, too; how what I'm collecting affects this life. And about my attempts to live without creating more trash.
Not everything in each post, of course, but unfolding, piece by piece, like the trash I pick up.
I'm a little afraid that I'll start this and drop it. But I can't. I am responsible to too many creatures, wild ones, to do this. So expect posts a couple times a week, at least. And find your motivator and your path to a more sustainable culture.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
(New blog, take two. My first title didn't work for me. This works better.)
So how does one gracefully start a blog? I guess the answer is that you don't always start it gracefully. You just do it.
Okay. In the beginning ... that line's already been taken.
Well, in the beginning, which in this case is last week, I went to Ocean Beach (in San Francisco) for the first time in awhile. The amount of trash was disturbing. I resolved to come back with bags and do something to clean up some of it.
For a change I kept my resolution. The next day, even. And the day after, and the day after that, and on to Sunday morning, in the rain.
And realized that the bag of trash I've committed to picking up most days is only going to go so far. Displacing this small amount of trash to a landfill and hoping it stays in place isn't a bad thing but something more is definitely needed, something like colllectively re-learning to not produce the waste in the first place.
As is glaring obvious, to live waste-free in this culture as it's currently organized is like, well, like swimming upstream. Although I don't exactly have a history of taking to change easily, the time I spend everyday (almost) picking up pieces of plastic which would otherwise be mistaken for food by a wild animal keeps it real. Especially since I have to leave so much on the beach, and I know that the trash on the beach is such a small part of what's out there, and I also see around me life, and the evidence other life, that could get hurt by eating this stuff, and it hurts me.
Abstract isn't such a strong motivator. Actuality is more of one.
Everyone has different motivators for making the changes that we need to make, as a culture, and different entry points. This, my first ever blog, will be the story of mine.
This blog will be about picking up trash on the beach, but it won't. It will be about the details of this particular piece of earth as I learn more about it; the temperature of the air, the colors of the water, and above all, the life that I observe and piece together information about from shells and birds and fisherfolk and seaweed and also websites and books. And the trash, too; how what I'm collecting affects this life. And about my attempts to live without creating more trash.
Not everything in each post, of course, but unfolding, piece by piece, like the trash I pick up.
I'm a little afraid that I'll start this and drop it. But I can't. I am responsible to too many creatures, wild ones, to do this. So expect posts a couple times a week, at least. And find your motivator and your path to a more sustainable culture.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)