Lazy Hummingbird

One Last Trip to the Shore

Our last trip to Pacific Shores was full of sparkly lights, cheap well drinks, good friends, and one awesome mom. I'm not quite sure what makes something a dive bar, but Pacific Shores is my kind of dive. During happy hour, anyway...I like to show up early and have my fun before most people even go out.

Thanksgiving

Sometimes you just need a quiet, foggy day at the beach with your best friend.

Cats of Ocean Beach

Ocean Beach Pier

The Pacific Ocean can put everything into perspective.

Back to the Shores

Z and I got a little restless. He threw on his best suspenders and we ventured down to Pacific Shores for some high class decor and a cheap drink.

Little Cat Feet

The fog comes

on little cat feet

It sits looking 

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

Gray

For my mom's birthday I decided to take advantage of living an easy walk from the beach. My mom loves the beach- she's a Florida girl who has also spent her fair share of time on some beautiful Hawaiian beaches. Today's weather didn't provide a brilliant blue sky and there are no volcanoes in the background but I think she liked the result anyway. There's a particularly heinous shot of me in the Grand Canyon framed in the living room and she's going to replace it with this so that's a win in my book.

The beach wasn't crowded at all but of course someone showed up right when Z started taking these pictures...at least it was all pretty self-explanatory.

After getting that taken care of, we took advantage of the low tide to get creepy at the tide pools and play with some dead animal pieces. In case you can't guess who was picking up carapaces, here's a visual  clue.

That's not vegan!

Cliffs and Chips

Sunset Cliffs is one of those places that makes me think California really is some kind of wonderland. It's wild and rugged and kind of scary and absolutely, unbelievably gorgeous.


There's a beach below the cliffs that looks amazing. All summer, while in Virginia, I thought about that beach and how great it would be to conquer my fear of heights (and my related fears of falling, pain, death, and embarrassment) and hang out there. Today was another beautiful day, perfect for a bike ride  to the cliffs. Our route to the cliffs was much hillier than anticipated and we ended up pushing our bikes as much as riding them. I made sure to note a much flatter option for next time.

See Z on the path? I swear (hope) it's much steeper than it looks. I think I made it about eight feet before freezing and assuming the "I'm terrified, crouching means I'll be safer" position. After I got back to the top, I watched a young boy scamper gleefully down to the beach.

Needing physical and spiritual nourishment after that disappointment, we headed down to Ranchos Cocina.

Z tried to get birds to take chips out of his hand by saying, "Who's brave? Who's brave?".  Apparently OB birds are cowards.

Charm Bracelet

Living in San Francisco, I frequently encountered things or events that were overlooked by many but made me happy. I started to think of these as charms for an invisible charm bracelet. Z would sometimes say,"Charm bracelet?" when he realized I had dropped back to photograph a doorknob or tiny piece of graffiti, and soon he began noticing them too. A front door painted in rainbow stripes, the curvy lines of a gate, a cute message scribbled on the chalkboard outside a coffee shop...though some of my favorite charm bracelet moments were unphotographable. The man dressed as a disco ball, leading an impromptu parade of four down the sidewalk to the sounds of Earth Wind and Fire (yes, Z and I made up half the parade) is one of my favorites.

It was in San Francisco that I realized my habit of noticing and photographing doorknobs, fire hydrants, things written in cement wasn't weird. Okay, maybe it is but it is a weirdness I fully embrace. Finding (and documenting if I can) tiny moments of beauty and joy help make up for the all instances of apathy, anger, and sadness. Besides, having all that color, texture, and humanity around made mundane tasks like walking to the library something much more memorable.

The charm bracelet is filling up at a much slower rate here in San Diego. The routes I can walk safely are limited and largely residential which makes me look even closer for those vibrant moments. Finding pops of color in my suburban neighborhood has become a personal challenge.

Other common San Diego "charm bracelets": cats sleeping outside, dogs frolicking in the waves, and people riding bikes while carrying surfboards (bonus points if the biker/surfer is still wearing a wetsuit). 

In a world that is often dangerous and ugly on a huge scale, these could be viewed as insignificant or frivolous. Maybe they are. I'm sure many would scoff at a painted van and dictate "better" uses for the creator's time and talent. I choose to think that each of these small strikes against blandness represents a person or people with creativity and the courage to exercise it. We could do with a lot more of that.