Morning Walk, Morning Light

It’s so clear you can see across the bay to Monterey. The wharf looks like an ocean liner docked in the harbor. Look—the pelicans are massing, and the gulls. In the water are hundreds, thousands, of tiny silver fish, anchovies I think. I look down from the wharf, hoping to see them swarm. They are there, but not quite. A flash of silver, then another. I feel that they are just below the surface, but the light isn’t right. I walk barefoot along the shore. The low incoming waves rattle the empty mussels and small flat stones. The bright sizzle of the water, the darker rolling of the shells and pebbles—a morning hymn.

Temperatures will top out at 85 degrees in the back yard this afternoon. It’s a funny weather pattern. We’re not used to such heat.