Why did you come ashore?
There was a seal on the beach today.
A tawny tan and brown seal barking a little, sitting up and moving around a little, but mostly just lying in the sand.
A young man nearby was cautioning other beachcombers not to bother the seal. He is a volunteer with a wildlife rescue group, and today was one of his on-call days. A call had come in earlier in the morning, he had the day off from work, and so he came down to the beach with a blanket, some water and a cell phone, ready to spend all day with the seal.
The vets specializing in marine animals had been called, but they were off rescuing someone else, and so this guy was sitting with seal until help could come.
I confessed to him my knee-jerk desire to "help" by picking up the seal and carrying it out into the water. He explained all the reasons I shouldn't do that. And I knew most of them already, but still the desire to "help" remained. I didn't, though, and the young man made sure no one else did, either.
I couldn't take the seal's picture. I wondered about his dignity, and would he feel taken advantage of, if I photographed him while he was in a vulnerable state. I realize I am anthropomorphizing him, but in my head he is a person, too. And I didn't want to take away his personhood somehow.
Richard says that's why he came ashore, a saucy seal looking for female photographers, eager to snap a shot. That's why you came ashore, I reminded the sailor. He smiled.
But I wonder about the seal. Later in the day he was gone, and his friend was gone too. I pray someone sits with me, the next time I come ashore, and can't quite get back to where I'm supposed to be.
Bridge walking
We've been married a week; I'm still not used to my new last name.
When one of our new tires blew out mysteriously on the trip here, Richard interrupted me while I was telling AAA my boyfriend was... "Husband!" he shouted above the wind, rain and thundering 18-wheelers. "I'm your husband!"
It's been non-stop work since the morning after. Today, we took our first break together, going for a brisk stroll across our neighbor, the Golden Gate Bridge. She's a beautiful lady of a certain age, and she has the best view of the city. It's true what they say -- once you find a good parking space here, you never leave.
2,083 miles and a sleeping bag
We rolled into San Francisco today, happy to be home. I was driving on the bridges, always a fertile field for commentary. The Presidio's office was still open, and gave us the keys to our new place. Our windows look out on the Pacific Ocean.
We unloaded the Pathfinder much more quickly than we loaded it, and then dashed out to the Marina district looking for a laundry-mat and a neighborhood restaurant. Our clothes had Tide while we had goat cheese and a lovely Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. While they tumbled dry, we walked hand-in-hand along Chestnut St. Two tired lovers in the cool gray city by the bay, eager for the first night in our new home.
A sleeping bag on the hardwood floor of our bedroom, located on the second floor of our refurbished flat. One pillow shared between us. Our belongings will arrive tomorrow. Tonight, the floor is enough.
Get your kicks on Route 66
The interstate is an undulating ribbon of asphalt before us. We've been married for three days, and we're traveling across the country to start our new life together in San Francisco. He has promised me a real honeymoon later, in the location of my choosing. I've already decided it won't involve 40 hours in the front seat of a car.
Cell phones turned off, driving a 13-year old Pathfinder, we've left 2005 and are driving through the 1950s. Roadside motor inns and one-pump gasoline stations line our journey.
Ostensibly we're on U.S. Interstate 40, but this is an older highway, full of dreams and billboards which outlived their authors.
We're greens-deprived, desparate for vegetables that haven't spent their brief, bright lives in a deep fat fryer.
The waitress asked if we wanted a glass of wine. No, we said in unison, more coffee, please.
Good-bye Texas, hello California, via Route 66.
Our wedding day
We're getting married today in the Rose Gardens.
Family and friends are here.
Our vows are written, the music is selected, it's going to be a gorgeous day.
I get to marry the man I love and live with him.
Give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good; His lovingkindness endures forever.
