TINA ERICKSON
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FUTURE SHADY ESCAPADES

6/18/2021

2 Comments

 
On the morning of what will be a really hot day, I venture to where the surfers catch early waves. As I walk the beach, I notice a bulbous form in the sand. At first, I perceive this to be a large piece of driftwood free of bark. As I get closer, I sadly see that it is a deceased whale. It is raw, damaged and in a state of decay. The smell is unpleasant. I don't look away. Instead, I document the animal and wonder what brought it to its demise. Several whales have washed up in the Bay Area recently, many of them wounded by ship strike. (My photos of the whale will not appear here, out of respect for the once beautiful, grand creature.)

Further down the beach, the tide is low enough to walk all the way to where the sand ends. Mussels and sea anemones cover the rock formations here. Waves crash and fall. Hermit crabs scurry to hide. My sneakered feet get wet, and I wonder why I have forgotten that it is sandal season. If it weren't for my camera, I'd probably just step deeper into the water, to get a closer look at the ocean critters. 

Up on the hill above the beach, I wander through the fort looking for spots to aim my camera. I watch the cliff swallows fly in and out of their mud nests. I listen to a vibrant red finch singing sweetly while sitting on the wires. An official looking white vehicle pulls up beside me and I say hello. A uniformed gentleman asks if he can help me in some way. I say "no" and smile. He asks what I am doing, and I say, "I am taking photos". He asks, "of what?" I pause and look around. I point to some discarded objects lost in the weeds and say, "artsy stuff like this". It sounds silly coming out of my mouth, but all other answers seem suspect. If I am a criminal, I am plotting my future shady escapades. If I am a self proclaimed artist for profit, I need to pay to be permitted to be here. My solution is to look happily naive with a new hobby. It works, and he drives off, choosing to ditch any further inquiry into my activities.  
hermit crab
two surfers
Rodeo Beach
beach
mussels attached to rock
large rock formation on beach
mailbox in front of hill
red bird
do not enter sign in front of hill
view of beach from above
caution cone and punching bag
2 Comments

SCATTERSHOT HALCYON DAYS

4/14/2021

1 Comment

 
The ocean constantly calls for my attention, and I try to answer with great respect. One would think I'd constantly find myself swimming, but often I stand on the edge, barely touching the water. In tropical climates, where the water is warm, I find myself swimming for hours upon hours, conversing with the fish. Here in the Bay Area, the water is frigid for a cold wimp. The pandemic has had me asking - Why don't I own a wetsuit? Why don't I know anyone with a boat? Why don't I own a boat, even if it is an inflatable dinghy? Why am I not a surfer or paddle boarder (beyond the annoyance of my crap knee)? These are repeated questions that need resolve. 

A young man approaches the water and disrobes down to a pair of shorts. He runs briskly into the ocean and back out again. Is this a test of will? A dare? An attempt to awake out of an endless stupor? If I went in that far, I would swim out past the waves, float on my back, feeling the water rise and fall. Surely I would get carried away with the wind, but that is not part of my current daydream. 

Two men are fishing and are the only others at the beach. They whirl around with their poles, trading places now and again. Seagulls look for bait to snack on while the men tug at the lines. I kick rocks and take pictures. 

I wander and wait for I know not what. My hair blows in my eyes and into my mouth. I am not used to the unwieldy nature of these unattended tendrils. My worries waiver and whip away with the wind. I wander back up the hill dancing, quietly collecting these scattershot halcyon days. 
stickers on sign
man walking out of ocean
poo written in spraypaint
toaster drawing on metal
seagull
Donut floatie
cart with fishing supplies
fabric on gutter drain
smashed sunglasses
Mucho painted on concrete
cut bottle with string attached on sand
Wave splashing on rock
1 Comment

FLIGHT FROM FOG

3/20/2021

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I hug the water, in the parking lots and along the piers. A woman shouts angrily in the distance and another follows from behind. I detour, to lose them both, to enter the quiet of my own mind. I chat with the seagulls, but in an invented world where they can understand. 

Boats huddle together as if to stay warm. It seems as if they should be sailing, making use of a beautiful day. The light stays longer now, but I must remind myself what month and what season we are in. A year has passed since our collective ill journey began, when all was locked down and minds were made uncertain. Hopefully the path will halt before it takes a turn into another direction of unwell.

A clear mind is the color of this blue sky. A blue rope is wound with its end ready to be pulled, to be useful and tightly held. Wooden horses cluster together, breaking from their utility.  
Blue rope
double arrow
angel island
wood horses
seagull flying SF in background
gangway
scaffolding
sailboats
ferry building sign
sail masts
seagull
why walk boat
pink wall with tree
wooden boat
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MY VOICE CALLS BACK

2/25/2021

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Above the surfers, an old battery sprinkles its rusted metal and concrete on the hill. The ground is green from winter rains and the sky is a welcoming shade of blue. From here the land is magic; the ocean is vast and deep. It is hard to imagine soldiers here awaiting attack, but there is evidence of this war readiness all over the Bay Area. 

I look for signs of rabbits and coyotes but am satisfied by the flit of a small butterfly. Water fills a hole where a cannon once was mounted. Here, I look for frogs and fish. I have no idea how fish would make it up to the top of the hill, but I look anyway. 

I call out into the concrete hall and my voice calls back. I wonder if the soldiers sang songs while holding watch. Did they get distracted by the beauty of this landscape. Did they swim or surf at nightfall? 

The coast is a carved sculpture made by the sea. Looking out over the water to the horizon, all else falls away. I am endlessly grateful for this.  
above rodeo beach in the headlands
old battery
do not climb on historic gun sign
cannon on hill
view of the water from the hills
old battery
haze on bay
rusted door
no smoking sign on wall
unstable material sign
rusty hardware on cement
hills and fire road
0 Comments

CAKE WALK

1/16/2021

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I drive around in circles, looking for a place to park. I have no agenda other than to walk and take pictures, but today I am off kilter and a bit sad. I wander somewhat aimlessly, arriving at a hill. It is like a cartoon exaggeration of a steep street, but a perfect representation of my emotions at that very moment. I turn around before I reach its peak, adjust my temperament and start again. Riding the wave between is the balancing act of these pandemic days. 

Finally parked, I head to the ocean, my steadfast friend. Here, the ravens dance as they always do. I am calm in their presence. The spirit finds solace in moments of simplicity. I cannot untether my connection to this place, even though I sometimes still feel like a tourist. The magic never ceases to surprise me, but I am easily wooed. 

After a perfect amount of wandering, I return to the car and remove my mask. Contented and smiling, I wipe away the salt from the tears that dried on my sun-kissed cheeks. 
rundown campervan
Graffiti on beach wall
security camera sign on wooden wall
Flowers and tow away sign
Raven at the beach
cake pans on sidewalk
No fires sign on beach
piece of wood on beach
Cliff house and camera obscura at ocean beach
man with surfboard
Magoo painted on rocks
dead burned xmas tree on beach
rock jutting out from cliff
bird wing with bone
windmill in golden gate park
broccoli on pavement
laughing Sal public art sculpture
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HELLO RAVEN

12/15/2020

1 Comment

 
Fires recently engulfed the area surrounding this beautiful beach. I watched the progress and air quality daily and expected to now see it charred and withered. Instead, there is evidence but not ultimate destruction. Nature finds a balance as long as we don't stand too headstrong in its way. 

As we walk, a raven is in lockstep with our movements. We say hello as he skips beside us. It is delightful and quite charming. As I reach for my camera, he doesn't exit the scene like most of the corvids usually do. Seeing my curious glance, he does a little dance and pauses for a snack or two. Every time I look for his wings to be outstretched, he is just strolling at a safe distance. 

The beach is sparsely populated, so we are able to breath freely at least part of the time. The salt air smells good and my lungs fill, crisp and clean. Various sea birds flit about feasting on what washes ashore. This is a good mid December morning, in the year 2020. 
raven on beach
blue foam and driftwood
beach
ocean waves
birds and waves
tree on hill above beach
small fish in sand
raven
sun over ocean
1 Comment

WATERMELON AND FRENCH BREAD

12/5/2020

1 Comment

 
The beach is beautiful as always, but it appears that the birds have been suffering a bit. There are more than a few carcasses in the sand. Perhaps these mark the end of well lived, flight filled days - but perhaps not. I'd like to ask the ravens, but they are busy feasting on the feathered dead (disturbing but true). They also dine on watermelon and french bread. 

Mist rises and falls, forming temporary clouds on the surface of the water. Surfers dive in and out of wide waves. One loses his board which finds its way to the sand, resulting in a passerby becoming a good samaritan. I lose my mind to salty daydreams. 

I don't put any rocks in my pocket today, but that doesn't mean I'm not looking for treasure. I recently read of an abandoned coal mine here. I count the gaps in the rock, guessing where the void falls deep. With my camera, I collect images of what shall be left undisturbed, the shared space of critters and man. I thank the winged ones for letting me walk among them, because it is we who have taken way too much.  
ocean waves
raven eating bread
ocean beach sf
ravens eating watermelon
Ocean
dead bird on beach
dead pelican
raven with pelican foot
1 Comment

LIKE MOSS GROWING INSIDE SNOW

11/20/2020

1 Comment

 
On this day, I have come to the beach to remember an old friend who left us one year ago this month. I brought with me a candle made by another mutual friend in her honor. I envision myself with the candle lit, walking in the sand, with her spirit beside me. However, to light this candle, I have brought matches I got at a bar over 30 years ago. They are from a place we went together when we were too young to be in bars. These matches, marking the year we met, need to light this particular candle. But they don't. I use every match. 

As the last match is blown out by the wind, I laugh and feel my friend laughing with me. I stop to pick up stones, except they aren't the moody dark stones I normally reach for. They are bright white with hints of green, like moss growing inside snow. My friend is choosing them; my hand is hers. I continue to enthusiastically reach for them until my pocket is heavy and wet with rocks. The unlit candle sits in my other pocket. I feel the weight of absence alongside the joy of the moment, the shared love of the ocean.
shredded tire
surfer on beach
drift wood
rocks at the beach
rainbow kite
fort made out of driftwood
wave
variegated stone
surfer facing ocean waves
stone on pebbles
hill in headlands
rope and seaweed
1 Comment

DAYLIGHT MOON

11/8/2020

1 Comment

 
Finally we are collectively breathing a sigh of relief and feel there is still hope to be had. Although faces are mostly still masked, I can tell most people are smiling and stepping a bit lighter. I hear laughter, lots of it. I can't recall when I last witnessed real glee, but it is palpable. My eyes well up with grateful tears. 
Baker beach, SF
four in blue paint on street
fall leaf on the street
china beach sunbathers, SF
birds flying above the water
fishing at the beach
surfer
picnic at the beach
blue flowers on shrub
swing
grass on cracked pavement
1 Comment

WATER BOXER

10/27/2020

1 Comment

 
A scantily clad man rushes into the ocean waves, fists up, boxing with the water. While submerged, he loses his pants for a bit. He comes out smiling and still boxing. I have no idea what this is about, but everyone finds their inner peace somehow. 

Dolphins leap at a short distance. Such is the magic that the ocean provides. Ravens squawk and gather in the morning sun. Happy to find them here, I wish to attend their party. A lone shoe has lost its business casual human. Walls along the fenceline are exuberantly painted. 

Above this beach, wealth takes a heavy sigh. This remarkable place is not theirs but belongs to all who step foot here. The bridge casts a shadow on the headlands, beaming bright but also capable of darkness.

Sand always reaches between my toes, no matter the height of my boots. 
raven on beach
dolphin
graffiti wall at beach
raven flying at beach
penny loafer on beach
man on beach
stairs to beach
seagull with orange peel
beach lookout
baker beach
raven sitting on sand dune
golden gate bridge
1 Comment
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    THE DISQUIETED QUIET

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    ©Tina Erickson


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