Vera sat in the car staring out over the cliff, seagulls dipping back and forth on the breeze. She took the rest of her sandwich, broke it into pieces, and began throwing them out the window one piece at a time.

Soon gulls squawked and dive bombed her car. Vera quickly threw out the rest, and when the fighting started, she raised the window and numbly watched, not able to look away. Her intent to do a kindness, to feed some hungry birds had turned into a violent free-for-all as the bigger birds pecked at the smaller ones taking the food right out of their beaks.

Vera was sorry she came out here. Sorry to see the gray waves sloppily sloshing the shore. It reminded her so much of herself... gray waves. Not even waves, just gray. Gray like the dreams that didn't make sense. Vera didn't just feel it, she was the essence of it, like the heavy fog beginning to creep toward the cliff. She felt like she could dissipate and seep right into it like dust swept into the air. Except she didn't have the energy to move. Just sit and stare and be nowhere.

Vera knew she was depressed. She had been here many times before. Despondency... her old friend/old foe never went too far away, always lurking in the background of her life somewhere. "That's the way it is when you've got brain chemicals out of whack," she said to the last departing seagull.

The oddest things triggered her mood swings. It wasn't anything that Paul said. He could say the same exact thing ten days ago and it wouldn't pierce her heart, draining all the blood of her self-esteem away. No. It wasn't what Paul said. It was the brain chemicals.

Sunset at Capitola Beach

I invoke the powers that be to provide me with a parking space and... Voila! There it is! I ease my car into it and discover an hour left on the meter. The gods are generous today! Because of the chilly air, I find that I have my choice of benches. I wrap my blanket around me and prepare my meal.

The seagulls have already called it a day and stand huddled together on the sand one-legged with their heads shrugged down into their shoulders. A lone female dares to walk directly to me begging to be fed.

Of course, I will not feed her! It is against the law!

But then my stomach does a turn as I look at her. I notice a fishing line trailing behind her and a hook caught in the side of her beak. She walks up to my feet and stands there looking up directly into my eyes, never making a sound. I cannot look away from her.

My heart overtakes my hand as I pull apart my sandwich. She stays close by me to feed on the sourdough, hold the avocado, please.

I thought she would swallow more gently, considering the hook. But, I'm amazed to see her maneuver the pieces of bread over to the other side of her beak and painfully swallow. She must really be hungry. She chases off an Alpha male when he takes note of our encounter. Then, she comes back towards me.

I think she has had enough snack. Besides what if other people see me and disapprove? There are so many good sensible reasons not to feed the wildlife. I decide I am just adding to her pain by feeding her. So, I hold back, and look away, hoping she will give up on me. But now, she is spreading her wings and lowering her head in an odd position. She begins softly crooning and whining a sing song tone at me, begging to be fed.

Oh, my God, I cannot resist! I feed her until she turns and walks away content.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo is of an adult male seagull

Pacific

Returning from the midwest
flat, lifeless,
humidity stifling,
we craved the sight
of that vast limitless sea.
We wanted to taste
salt water on our lips,
breathe in seaweed enhanced air,
listen to barking seals,
the waves breaking on the shoreline.
We anticipated our bodies tingling
with electrifying exhilaration of the ozone,
bringing life back into our starving lungs.

We had missed it so much
that vast subtle azure
meeting with the gray horizon
kissing the clouds
watching over us.

We could feel a sweetness,
a freshness,
a newness,
as though we had never
been here before.

We stood at the end of the land
on the cliffs
reveling at the rythym
of the tides below,
counting seven waves
hoping it was true
that there is a cycle to the swells.
Yearning...
to walk
on hot glittering sand
in our bare feet,
to squish our toes
into the edge of the foamy brine.
We could hardly wait
for the water to caress our feet,
to roll up our pantlegs
and wade as deep as our knees.
the current pulling at us,
daring the depths to take us away.
We knew we would stay
in the water
until our legs were cold and numb

We climbed down
the precarious zig zag path
where we had been before
so many years ago.
We were like lighthearted children
splashing as we ran
alongside the puddles
and clumps of seaweed,
disturbing the seagulls,
there cries piercing the air.

Slowing down
to pick up seashells
and smoothed pieces of colored glass
green, brown, red
and our favorite...
blue.

We passed around
the corner edge of the cliff
seeking the wall where the mermaid
had been etched by some ambitious artist
How had he done it?
Did he hang off the side
by a rope? stand on a tall ladder?
Certainly, it was magic!
Around the bend
searching the tide pools
seeking the crabs,
we were not aware
of the rising tide,
of the increasing
strength of the wind
in that protected cove.

Was it someone above us
hollering a warning
to return?
A surfer, maybe?
Was it intuition?
We turned and saw
the threatening sea rushing in
as the sun prepared to set.

At sea level
we would be
at the mercy of the rising tide.
Hurrying now,
adrenaline rushing up our spines,
tightening our throats
vibrating through our muscles.
The slippery challenge of the rocks
threatening to toss us off
like pieces of driftwood.

We clung to the edge of the cliff
scraping our hands,
where it cleaved to the shore.
Water weighed us down
as we tried to run,
in heavy slow motion,
being held back
like those in a dream,
the tangled seaweed
hampering our escape
gut wrenching fear driving us on.

At the last moment
in grateful relief,
we safely ascend.

~~~~

Note: Based on a true experience

Eastern Clouds

Chirping cherry blossoms
rickshaw carts
busily waltzing
crowded streets
exploring alleyways

Dappled daylight
sun dances across
mountain crests

Waters lapping bay
caressing boats
sailing smoothly on their way.

Cornflower sky
clouds scudding gaily.

Seagulls squawk
dive amongst themselves
raising screeches
responding
to chirping cherry blossoms

~~~Elizabeth Munroz

Inspired by “Dharma” from the music of Bruce Mitchell on the album, "Hidden Pathways"

Note: Photos taken by author