TINA ERICKSON
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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
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