The poignancy of a photograph comes from looking back to a fleeting moment in a floating world. The transitoriness is what creates the sense of the sacred
Allen Ginsberg
Pelicans sailing
slowly toward me -
squadron of silence
it seems impossible such a large bird can fly so gracefully
and float so easily.
Powerful wings lift them, soaking wet, from the ocean,
as they fly, and turn, and dive back into the water.
The heavens are full of floating mysteries.
Thomas Buchanan Read
Tuesday morning was exuberant chaos on the beach. The waves were crashing, the wind was thundering. Surfers were shouting to each other back and forth about the best spots, then fighting their way through the chop past the break. Along the coast, people who gathered for the sunrise were laughing and talking and taking many, many pictures.
Then came the pelicans, drifting gracefully on the wind, wings wide, almost, but not quite - hovering. I looked up and the hush of delight I felt created a vacuum of sound that seemed to be so beautifully long but was really only a moment. I was sure when I let down my camera that there would be a group of people around me, all staring off to where the pelicans flew, but it was just me - returning to the sea of sound. And that was also magical. Like it was just my moment. What a gift.
Thank you so much for being here. See you next week!
A line of pelicans flying close to the surface to spare their wings some effort.