Ocean Static Fills My Ears…

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Abstract, Beach, Black and White, Florida, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Poetry, Sea, Water

Sibilant words
Lumber off the sea

Ocean static
Fills my ears

The dunes shrug
Cicadas throbbing

The scent of distant rain
Hanging in a hammock
Of gauzy wind

Fingers probe
Like crab claws
In cold-packed sand

As I listen
To the conversation
Of the waves beyond

Upon a Bed of Sugared Sands

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Black and White, Death, Florida, Nature, Ocean, Pelican, Photography, Poetry, Sad, Sea, Seashells, Video

Ramble on the shore
Trundling through icy sea-lace
Churlish waves hissing

Grey ocean mutters
Skimmers rise in a black plume
Through a scrape of rain

A severed wing rests
On a bed of sugared sands-
Moon mounts the dunes

“The Sun the Color of Pressed Grapes…”

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Abstract, Beach, Black and White, Blur, Drear, Experimental Photography, Nature, Ocean, Pensive, Photography, Quotes, Sand, Sea, Twilight

“He opens his eyes and stares directly into the morning sun which wallows up from the misty sea like some bloated, dying fish. The sky is gray and immobile, a dome of lead. A cloud hangs mute and dark over the western horizon. High up, barely visible, a seagull floats on motionless wings. Its cry is weird and restless.”
– Ingmar Bergman, The Seventh Seal

“I had forgotten that time wasn’t fixed like concrete but in fact was fluid as sand, or water. I had forgotten that even misery can end. ”
– Joyce Carol Oates, I Am No One You Know

“Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgundy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.”
– Jack Kerouac, On the Road

“If You Don’t Become the Ocean…”

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Beach, Bird, Black and White, Brine, Dawn, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Quotes, Sea, Waves

“I was a man who thrived on solitude… I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the room was like sunlight to me.”
– Charles Bukowski, Factotum
“If you don’t become the ocean, you’ll be seasick every day.”
– Leonard Cohen
“The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you’ll never have.”
– Søren Kierkegaard

When the Surf Fisherman Decides Not to Wade In

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Beach, Black and White, Dawn, Fishing, Florida, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Sea, Seabirds, Sharks, Sunrise, Surf, Video, Waves

(Some feeble footage above of some hunting bull-shark chums of mine as they spilled up into the shallow swash as the tide began to recede. Is there anything better than having a shark swim up into one’s lap? I think not!)

I had a meeting with the Sharks that Sunrise, and they kept their promise. I arrived to the bruised sight of a brooding squall that aged the sky, scudding in and consuming the Dawn.

Pale rosy lightning sniveled across the slate blue of cloud as a lone dolphin breached cold in the distance.

And there in the swash the pastel waves frilled and shivered as a cool wind lumbered forth, and a surge of fish spat out from the sea as the Sharks surfed right up to my feet.

The Surf Fisherman decided not to wade in. I know not why. The water was glorious.

“What is a Scientist, After All?” – The Birthday of Jacques Yves Cousteau

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Art, Black and White, Book Excerpt, Cartoon, Charcoal, Conservation, Diving, History, Jacques Cousteau, Link, Literary Quote, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Quotes, Scientist, Sea, Shark, Sketch, Surf, The Silent World, Waves

“What is a scientist after all? It is a curious man looking through a keyhole, the keyhole of nature, trying to know what’s going on.”
― Jacques-Yves Cousteau

“For most of history, man has had to fight nature to survive; in this century he is beginning to realize that, in order to survive, he must protect it.”
― Jacques-Yves Cousteau “The future is in the hands of those who explore… and from all the beauty they discover while crossing perpetually receding frontiers, they develop for nature and for humankind an infinite love.”
― Jacques-Yves Cousteau

“Above us flying fish gamboled, adding a discordant touch of gaiety to what was becoming a tragedy for us. Dumas and I ransacked our memories for advice on how to frighten off sharks. ‘Gesticulate wildly,’ said a lifeguard. We flailed our arms. The gray (shark) did not falter. ‘Give ’em a flood of bubbles,’ said a helmet diver. Dumas waited until the shark had reached his nearest point and released a heavy exhalation. The shark did not react. ‘Shout as loud as you can,’ said Hans Hass. We hooted until our voices cracked. The shark appeared deaf. ‘Cupric acetate tablets fastened to leg and belt will keep sharks away if you go into the drink,’ said the Air Force briefing officer. Our friend swam through the copper-stained water without a wink. His cold, tranquil eye appraised us. He seemed to know what he wanted, and he was in no hurry.”
– Excerpt from the book, “The Silent World” by Jacques Cousteau

“People protect what they love.”
― Jacques-Yves Cousteau (June 11, 1910 – 1997)

Thoughts Tumbling

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Beach, Birds, Florida, Monochrome, Nature, Ocean, Palm Tree, Photography, Poetry, Sand, Satellite Beach, Sea, Sea Birds, Seagulls, Surf, Terns, Thoughts, Wave, Wave Photography, Winter Sea

Squinting sour

Shards of shell

In cherry light-

Sober morning

Tumbling like

Wintry waves

Of coy jade-

Disfigured thoughts

“The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.”

―Cornelia Funke, Inkheart

The Taste of Dying December

Tags

Abstract Photography, Black and White, Brevard County, Cocoa Beach, Decay, Droplets, Florida, Monochrome, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Poetry, Prose, Sea, Surf, Surfer, Thoughts, Wandering, Water, Writing

Ashy taste of mildewed Wind, heady and warm, off brush-metal waves- sticking to thoughts– it cursitates, Neurons itching, tickled by the bleary chiming of a Rain-Pattered Sea.

The chink-metal ocean tastes of sodden rust, spume sputtering about the shoulders- these eyes– a lunging Black, as dark as wetsuit skin.

Lambent gaze scrapes the clouds; dark spindly form punctures the sky- fiberglass toes- white and sharp, like bone- and the sound of water drips like snow.

Comes the deluge, the swimming grey swarm of oblivion, drowning in a surge of metal- the colour of December’s somber death- the scent of it tingles in curled and gnarly fingers, burrowing in sand.

The balmy breath of it dissolves and settles upon these meandering splinters of thought that scuttle into the fizzy-green brine and are stolen by the evening tide, stifled by the sweeping sounds of the Seagull’s Drawl and the strumming song of a Rain-Pattered Sea.

What is Born of Pastel Dawn

Tags

Beach, Black and White, Brevard, December, Florida, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Poetry, Sand, Satellite Beach, Sea, Seagull, Surf, Surfing, Waves

Cacophonous wind carries seagull drawls,
the bell buoy’s alarm and bleating boats.
Sweet breaths take in morning laughter,
fingers skimming the chiming waters;

the harmony of the sea
tickling the Surfer’s soul,
saline breeze against His back,
breaking waves beneath His toes.

Crying plaudit, the art of elation,
wax and salt, and squinting eyes,
greet the sun of auriferous creation.

Glitters what is born of Pastel Dawn.

A sky of free-thought and clarity,
testing the nerves, tempting Humanity-

recall no concept of finality,
spill like a wingless cherub
smiling inside the curling blue.

Poised, there, in the Glass Barrel
is the conception of Stillness–
where the rains never penetrate.

Surfer, encompass the ride eternally-
the ocean pulses through Your veins.

Craggy Man at Dawn

Tags

Black and White, Florida, Haiku, Nature, Ocean, Pelican, Photography, Poetry, Sea, Seagull

 

 

Craggy man at Dawn-

Only tinkling Sea is heard

Yielding to Laughter