Of chewed wood, rock stencils, and walking on water

Our last trip to Crescent Beach was so productive that we went again this Sunday, in expectation of more great finds. Unfortunately, the tide was nearing its peak, and the remaining beach was lifeless. So was the water surface; nary a bird to be seen.

So we looked at rocks and logs, instead.

Empty sea, empty sky. On the left, the steps from 24th street, at the top of the cliffs, drop down to beach level.

Most logs float in without much damage, but every so often one looks as if it had been chewed.

Black rot or burn marks on a stump.

Beach rocks often incorporate chunks from various sources, creating interesting patterns, good imagination boosters. Laurie says these look like footprints; I see the whole section as a fish stencil.

And this is a pair of animals hiding behind a stump and keeping a watch out left and right.

Ok, now I'll be sensible. Is this a fossil of some kind? The rest of the rock is plain, smooth stone.

Something alive on shore; orange jellies on a blackened, rotting log.

Something alive on the water, after all; a man on a paddle board.

I grew up in boats, playing in skiffs and canoes. I'm fascinated by these paddle boards; it's almost like walking on water. I see people off on the horizon, standing on what looks like nothing at all, or skimming along silently, approaching those distant rafts of diving ducks, and I envy them.

I just looked up the price of one; over a thousand bucks. And I'd never get Laurie on one, anyhow. I'll contain my envy.

A Skywatch post.