Coney as desert, with gull, underexposed umbel

The young gull's parent was somewhat near, it had dark grey wings. This was the biggest baby on the beach, with such beautiful patterns on its wings, I don't think it will get to keep those designs, though.

High points yesterday, learning that the original usage of the word mundane, being on the receiving end of Hafiz excerpts relating to moths (He is the lion of August). Also observing the tiny guillotine my daughter had made. I would fear a revolution, but I really like losing my head.

A line from Nicola Masciandaro's newest ghazal brought this passage from naturalist John Kiernan to mind:

A young man may say with regret that he has never traveled, but if he is twenty years old he has traveled well over 10,000,000,000 miles within our own little solar system, not to mention that far greater distance in galactial rotation at a speed of roughly 175 per second. And never a single mile of this amazing journey retraced!

I'll be traveling to Maine today, via Rhode Island, hopefully right side up, and I'll miss Brooklyn and the way it accordions wherever you train your focus. I suppose that can happen elsewhere.

The Beach at Riis Park

As we arrived at Riis Park this morning there were several police boats trolling the waters, looking for the body of a drowning victim. We decided to stay anyway, having already paid 5 dollars to park. My original plan had been to go to Manhattan Beach, a little cove near Brooklyn College where it's hard to drown, but having heard from a friend that it is one of the dirtiest beaches in the area, changed plans. Had I known the choice was death or dirt, things might have played out a little differently.

I don't know anything about the Riis drowning victim, but I send my sympathy to all those who knew this person. It would have been pretty traumatic if a body had washed up where one of the kids was wading, but then I suppose it's an honor to take part in discovering someone lost. Instead we came across this live sea star, found by my daughter, who quickly became convinced that she would become famous for her discovery, and who cried bitterly when we threw it back before we left.

The small clams which you can't avoid stepping on when wading in the shallows disguise themselves as plants, perhaps they are part plant. Amazing to watch how quickly they dig their way out of danger, floating their brownish-red wispy tendrils above them for a good wash.

Esmerelda at Rockapulco

This waterlogged beetle in the swarsh got airborne again when a lucky gust blew her from a volcanologist's fingertip. The loggy beetle was so large a nugget of a bug we saw her flying off into the distance for a surprisingly long time.

august dragons far and near

The whispy cloud that drifted over as I lay on Rockaway Beach looked like a dragon, or maybe a jumbo shrimp, and kept its shape longer than I expected it to. I came across smiley on PPSW on my way into the park this morning, and he didn't seem to mind the closeup at all.

But why is his eye out of focus when those hairs on his head aren't? My depth of field couldn't be that short, could it? Blimey!

Double click for hair action. For more dragonfly action, the real dope is here.

Moslem Woman at Coney Island

I know it seems simple minded to say this, but I love it when people swim in their clothes. It makes wet wetter.

Coney Island, Saturday July 27, in front of the Wonder Wheel

Wet Dry Tuesday

Even though the day started with a short rain storm and it's storming now, it's been a dry day for me. Back in the swim of work, things need to stay on the dry side. It got a little too dry today when the water wasn't working in the women's bathroom. I realized it only after I had applied soap to my hands. No problem, my cave gumption kicked right in and I just got the water from the cooler, which was all the more refreshing for being extra cold and reserved for drinking.

I heard a little about swimming from a friend of mine who reports that the water at Breezy Point was full of jellyfish today and her kids wouldn't go in. She did, though, and I would have too, happy to bob around in the massive bubble tea. They weren't the stinging kind, she said. Next year, I hope someone invites me to their beach club there. I've never been beyond the gate. Hint.

Housekeeping in Beach Haven

On Sunday haze blanketed the Atlantic on our section of Long Beach Island and created this strange halo effect over the ocean. It was almost a rainbow. What atmosphere, like finding oneself in a Guy Maddin movie, or on a ghost beach, as my daughter called it. I wonder if it had anything to do with the heat of the air and the nerve splintering cold of the water.

I didn't want the weekend to end. Here's some elements to help me suspend time a bit with help from my camera, which I didn't drop it in the water this time.

There was an odd quick karma event on Saturday when I got up, at some point my husband brought me a cup of coffee with no milk or sugar. I made a farce of complaining, but anyway there was no sugar because I hadn't brought any. I guzzled it down black, then went off to get beach passes at the office. I went in to find no one there, and all I could hear was someone taking a shower. I kept saying "hello? hello?" It was eerie. Finally a woman came in and I told her I was sorry if I had pulled her away from something. She said it was fine, she just hadn't had time to put her milk and sugar in her coffee.

I hope all of us who like coffee light and sweet get our milk and sugar. And if not, then at least some sand and salt water.

Our Lady of the Coin-Operated Shower

At 5:15 the life guards at the Scarborough Beach State Park in Rhode Island announced that all the facilities would be closing at 6, NO EXCEPTIONS. At about 5:50 my little one announced that she needed to go, so we beat it across the grey sands, made irridescent in places by flecks of mica, over to the bathhouse. The bathroom was already locked, but a young woman with a broom redirected me to one inside the building, adjoining the bathhouse where hot showers were available. Perched on the potty, the niña told me that she couldn't go because she was too sandy. Of course, of course.

We went to the hot showers, and as if by some miracle I happened to have a quarter in my pocket. But I couldn't get it in the slot, and a young teenager (a tweener, I believe they are called by those who market things to them) offered to help us. She tried it and couldn't get it in either, so we headed around to the next aisle of showers where she was able to get one going with my quarter. Perhaps I could have gotten it in myself if I wasn't too panicked and distracted to focus. In a gush of gratitude I told her she was absolutely fabulous. And she was. And So was the water.