I ventured out onto the cliffs of Del Mar this morning after another night of rain. The sky was full of clouds, rain in the distance, spots of blue, and a quiet, wet hush all around. The ground was soft and moist. The cliffs were covered with the lush green vegetation that only comes with rain. Tall green stalks with what look like geranium leaves that grow higher than my head. Bush after bush of bright purple flowers in tight clusters--the kinds I used to only see in flower arrangements as filler, but now see covering the cliffs year-round, drying up and becoming pale in the summer and coming back to life in the winter and spring. Long, thick swaths of tall bright yellow flowers that look like some kind of daisy with white buttons in the center. And white ones with yellow buttons. Ah, spring!
Then I saw the rainbow--or part of it. It was a thick and vibrant pillar of fluorescent pinks, yellows, greens, and blues, out over the western edge of the ocean and leaning at an angle toward the north, ending in the rain clouds. I walked toward it, watching it fade, then brighten, back and forth, depending on the angle.
And then I saw another one: a pale, pale, barely discernible pillar over the northern edge of the ocean towards the coast and pointing west, as if the two pillars were falling into one another, but not quite at the correct angle for them to meet. One far out to the west over the ocean, the other closer to the northern shore.
They were facing one another. The red edges of each column facing the center, and fading into purple, pink, yellow, green, blue, and indigo on the outer edges.
Maybe at other points along the coast they would actually look like one column, and maybe at others form an arc. Who knows what a different perspective would show?
As I continued each column brightened, grew, and faded, until I could only see them because I knew they were there.
In the center of the trail, a big fat snail sprawled out horizontally across the mid-line. Usually snails stay to the periphery, but here it was front and center. A rather dangerous place to be, but fortunately I saw it and stepped right over and went on my way, and I hope the snail did too.
Returning home, I walked past a small palm, fronds bobbing in the breeze, and there was a snail at head level riding on the frond, bouncing up and down, having a ride.
Happy Monday! May we all soak up the light, gain perspective, take our time, sprawl as necessary, and ride with ease in the breeze.
Then I saw the rainbow--or part of it. It was a thick and vibrant pillar of fluorescent pinks, yellows, greens, and blues, out over the western edge of the ocean and leaning at an angle toward the north, ending in the rain clouds. I walked toward it, watching it fade, then brighten, back and forth, depending on the angle.
And then I saw another one: a pale, pale, barely discernible pillar over the northern edge of the ocean towards the coast and pointing west, as if the two pillars were falling into one another, but not quite at the correct angle for them to meet. One far out to the west over the ocean, the other closer to the northern shore.
They were facing one another. The red edges of each column facing the center, and fading into purple, pink, yellow, green, blue, and indigo on the outer edges.
Maybe at other points along the coast they would actually look like one column, and maybe at others form an arc. Who knows what a different perspective would show?
As I continued each column brightened, grew, and faded, until I could only see them because I knew they were there.
In the center of the trail, a big fat snail sprawled out horizontally across the mid-line. Usually snails stay to the periphery, but here it was front and center. A rather dangerous place to be, but fortunately I saw it and stepped right over and went on my way, and I hope the snail did too.
Returning home, I walked past a small palm, fronds bobbing in the breeze, and there was a snail at head level riding on the frond, bouncing up and down, having a ride.
Happy Monday! May we all soak up the light, gain perspective, take our time, sprawl as necessary, and ride with ease in the breeze.
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