Good Saturday morning, dear and faithful PUAC’ers.

I’m just back from a short camping trip to South Carlsbad State Beach. And, I was expecting a cool, breezy, relaxing and hiking few days off. Just the plan. It didn’t turn out exactly like that – it was almost 90 degrees, very humid and only an occasional slight breeze.

Oh, well. We had a lovely site, right next to a sort of lowish chain link fence which was appropriate at the top of an approximately 30 foot bluff, down to the beach. Even seated in camping chairs, you could watch the wide beach and you could tell by the way the waves had a long ride in that it was a low-angled slope out to the Sea. Gorgeous, really. And perfect for surfers and pelicans.

Long story short, after dinner I took the Dog for a walk and when he charged another dog, I couldn’t hold him and got pulled down on the asphalt, face first.

So, the next day I spent the entire day in a nice folding rocking lawn chair and trying to stay immobile.

(Bobby D.)

Oh, mama. The situation encouraged me to slowly and thoughtfully observe and contemplate what I was looking at, what I was feeling, in context to the whole environment there. I spent 15 minutes watching a 2 inch black beetle make her way across the site. I noticed the squirrels’ front doors to their tunnels going down the bluff when they poked their headies out. The 3 inch lizards were lightning fast. Barely could notice them. Just a flit here and there and then you hold and watch and see the lightning run.

The waves were just right down there, and as waves are prone to do, whatelse?, they continued their seeming eternal rush to shore and journey back to the sea. Endless repetition, and so soothing to know that there’s something bigger and more important than me out there.

Gazing at the ocean, the vastness of it, the age of it, the power of it, the nurturing life of it, just overwhelmed me. I was happy to realize that there was something that didn’t have a care or opinion about humanity. Ocean doesn’t care if we are old, young, fat, skinny, happy, sad, mean, cruel or nice and supportive. Don’t matter to the ocean. Somehow it was comforting to me to be there. Even with the aches and pains.

And, then, the most awesome thing happened. A flock of California Brown Pelicans, in formation came flying by, within 5 feet of the chain link fence.

They started out in a V formation and then in front of me…within 15 feet I’d say, they shifted to an in-line formation. Perfect harmony with each other. Flap, flap, glide. Flap, flap, flap, long glide. It was jaw-dropping. When another squadron flew by, I realized that they were taking advantage of the updraft from the bluff. And when I say squadron, that’s the word that came into my mind. They appear so prehistoric looking, with their long beaks and wide wingspreads. And they had such serious looks on their faces.

Funny, when I googled pelican squadron, I found that that’s what they are referred to, a Squadron of Pelicans. They were so precise and so close that they blew me away as much as the vastness of the ocean. I watched about 7 or 8 flocks fly down the, as I had come to think of it, the Pelican Highway. Once, I counted 17 of them. And once a pair came by together. Teenagers, I thought.

In the end, I am grateful for the accident that caused me to sit still for one whole day and just observe and absorb.

So, how’s the haps, peeps? Got anything? You don’t have to have boo-boos to share a story. Usually, my life is pretty same old same old. I just had to leave town to experience the Otherness.

Pull Up A (folding rocking) Chair and tell me what the heck is happening in your world. And, as always, keep the faith.