Category Archives: ocean

Stranded sailors, and resting elephant seals.

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Daughter “Pippin” and her children were with me for a few happy days. The weather was not forecast to be friendly to our desire to be out of doors the way we like, but it cooperated in the end by bringing rain mostly while we slept, and we managed to go exploring all four days. It would take another full day of blogpost-crafting to tell you about everything that blessed my soul, but I want to share about two surprises we encountered.

At Point Reyes National Seashore, we made a wrong turn and ended up on Drakes Beach, where we thought we might as well get out for a minute and look, before we turned around to go to nearby Chimney Rock. The beach was mostly closed, because elephant seals were currently “pupping” there; several park staff were milling about near the temporary fence to tell us all about the animals. As of the 1st of March, this article says there were 870 weanlings on the Point Reyes beaches.

We watched this big guy above (4,000 to 5,000 pounds, they say) throwing sand onto his back to cool off, and wiggling his whole body down a little farther into his damp bed. It’s curious to watch oneself watching heavy animals doing mostly nothing; I think one reason we don’t get tired of staring is the principle of unpredictable rewards. They lie still for who knows how long — do I get vicarious enjoyment from just watching a seal seemingly sleeping like a log? — and it is rewarding to still be watching when suddenly they lumber across the beach a few feet, or merely lift their heads to check out how close the visitors are getting.

At one point a docent opened the fence and escorted us out on to the beach to get closer to the seals, while keeping at a safe distance. The gigantic males can move pretty quickly if they want, and we watched from afar as a couple of them challenged and threatened each other over territorial rights.

The day before our visit, the last female had left the beach after being impregnated, and it was expected that the males and pups would soon leave, too. In the meantime, they were resting, the pups living off their mothers’ milk of which they would get no more. They’d have to get out into the ocean pretty soon, and learn to find real food, not just whatever trash washed up on the beach. A volunteer was collecting trash even while we leaned against the fence, getting sunburned.

We didn’t go to Chimney Rock after that, but to visit the Point Reyes Lighthouse, where we walked down the 300+ steps and hiked back up again, after eating our picnic lunch beside the path.

Out there we looked at Leathery Polypody, Polypodium scouleri; and Orange Rock Hair, Trentepholia aurea.

The second surprise was the following day, when the ocean tides also were not as convenient as we might have hoped; the moderately low tide would not happen until about 7:00 p.m., and we went out to the coast again, hoping to find some tidepools to explore. At least, Daylight Savings Time was just recently in effect, so we would have sunlight.

What a wonder! After we’d hiked down the path, we realized that the dark ripples on the beach that we’d seen from above were fields of stranded Velella velella, or By-the-wind Sailors. Once upon a time I found one of these creatures on a beach, and it was very small. We never dreamed we’d see them like this, here on our North Coast beaches that are not typically so colorful.

They are described online thus: “This hydroid polyp remains afloat on the suface of the Pacific Ocean for most of its life. It never touches or even comes close to the ocean bottom, and the only stage in its life when it is completely submerged under water is the larval stage. The Velella velella begins its life in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, is brought by the wind to the shores, and is usually cast up on a beach where it dies and disentegrates.” source

Sailor with its sail up.

We had to wait around for a while for the tide to go out as far as it would, but what few tidepools we saw were mostly full of sailors.



Ivy and Jamie spent a lot of time collecting pebbles and pieces of shell, and sometimes running in the surf, which throughout the year ranges from 50-55 degrees in temperature.

When we returned home they left their treasures on the front walk, and in the morning sorted them carefully, asking me to choose some to keep. As they were packing up to leave for home, Jamie arranged mine where they will be a daily reminder of our beloved beach outings.

I study and drink grasses.

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Today my friend Cindy and I drove out to the beach, a birthday outing for her. It was about 60 degrees, which was truly fine when the sun came out; there wasn’t much wind. While Cindy lay under a driftwood teepee, I took a brisk walk down the beach a ways, trying to exercise my feet in the squishy sand right where the wave has just receded.

Washed up by the surf I saw several by-the-wind Sailors, Velella velella. It’s hard not to notice their brilliant blue. I had heard a couple of months ago that people were seeing thousands of them on California beaches this year, which is unusual. This one was about two inches long.

The only stop we made for wildflower appreciation was on the way home, and it wasn’t for flowers at all, but for grass. Stands of pink grass waved in the breeze a the edge of the road; I discovered it is common velvetgrass, holcus lanatus. I think this is the first time my Seek app has been able to tell me anything about grasses; maybe it has truly been adding to its knowledge base. After all, one often does get the message that “Seek doesn’t know what this is. We are still learning!”

Recently I was offered a cup of tea at a friend’s house, and it was the most delicious drink, toasty and sweet, like nothing I’d ever tasted before. When my host came back into the room I asked her, and she said it was an infusion of wild oats — she had gathered them from nearby fields, and dried them. She showed me her stash, which she keeps in a big pretzel jar:

Just now I read more about this plant, a native perennial called California Wild Oat Grass, Danthonia californica. I was surprised to learn that it is recommended for growing domestically: “In home yard use, this grass gives a lowland meadow look or grows well in a rock garden.”

I don’t think my garden has the meadow look that would provide context for this native grass, but it is nice to think that other people might take advantage of its good features, and maybe drink its flowers, as I did. For now, my own interest lies almost entirely in trying to learn about more of the many grasses that live in northern California. I’ll be sure to let you know if I do.

California Wild Oat Grass – Internet photo

Be glad, make ready, rejoice!

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We Orthodox Christians begin our Advent, our Nativity Fast, in November, because our Advent is 40 days long. So whether we celebrate Christmas on December 25th or January 7th, we’re ahead of western Advent. My parish is of the December 25th, and today was our first day of the fast.

It was the coldest day yet in my garden, and my fountain had a layer of ice on it. The water level was also a bit low so I poured a few pitchers of tepid water in there, and pulled redwood needles out of the filter to get it going again. Then I spent the rest of the morning at church, baking Communion bread with other women. With three ovens going at once, we got the kitchen quite toasty!

I drove straight from there to pick up my friend Mother S. who is in town visiting family for Thanksgiving. She loves the beach, so we drove out to Jenner-by-the-Sea, where the Russian River flows into the Pacific. I took very few pictures this time, but it was a perfect day, not a cloud in the sky, 60 degrees and sunny! We parked in the lot down near the beach, after taking pictures from this spot on a hill, from which you can see where the river comes in. I squished my bare feet into the sand, but didn’t walk out into the surf.

It was a lot of driving, but well worth it. By the time I got Mother S. home again, I barely had time to get to the service I was aiming for, back at church. It was a combination of a Paraklesis for Advent and the Blessing of Water. I had left my phone in the car so I didn’t take pictures of the small church lit only by candles.

I think it was good for me to not have that option of taking pictures, because when I eliminated the role of observer, I could be fully present and participating, not standing apart in my mind, so to speak, distracted by photographic possibilities. I was just being me, in church, praying.

It might have been for that reason that I was able to pay attention and be deeply affected by the prayers and hymns that were specific to this day and these services. They were metaphorically super-rich, and many of them were in the form of exhortations and expressions of wonder from us or from the Virgin, on the subject of the Incarnation. We were giving commands to rejoice, to get ready, to glorify God — to the universe, to the cave, to Zion, even to our mortal nature.

I’ve transcribed a few of the verses below:

O Bethlehem, receive Christ: for, made flesh, he comes to dwell in thee, opening Eden to me. Make ready, O Cave, to behold most strangely contained in thee, him who cannot be contained, who now is made poor in the wealth of his tender mercies.

Christ comes to be born, granting in his goodness a strange rebirth to those sprung from Adam. Be glad, the whole nature of mortal man, thou that art barren and bearest not: the master has come to make thee a mother of many children.

Rejoice exceedingly, O Zion: make ready, O Bethlehem. The Upholder of all things, sending a star before him, has made known his condescension without measure. He before whom the heavenly powers tremble, our only God, without change is born in very truth from the Virgin.

Today the Virgin cometh to the cave to give birth in an ineffable manner to the pre-eternal Word. Rejoice, therefore, O universe, when thou hearest, and glorify with the angels and shepherds him who shall appear by his own will as a new child, the pre-eternal God.

It was a glorious beginning to Advent. I feel that I’ve gotten a boost of expectation that will help keep my heart tuned to the upcoming joyous Feast of the Nativity of Christ.

August is foggy a lot.

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So many mornings the sun does not come out until late. But I picked the last of my Elephant Heart plums this week, and the first two figs of the season the week before. Just now I wandered around the garden (noon and sunny) and cut three zucchini.

I’m trying to get back to my habit of going to the beach once a week. It’s been foggy on the coast, too, but pleasant enough that I can wear just a thin linen shirt. Last time I saw an unfamiliar bird, a little smaller than the usual sea gulls. There were many parties of a dozen or so, mostly sitting together and looking out to sea. When I got home and researched, I discovered that they are Heermann’s Gulls.

There were also lots of the charming Godwits out there fishing.

Sea Palm

Every person in a large family at church was sick recently, which gave me the opportunity to have fun in the kitchen, making dinner for them one day. Most of the time I am trying, usually in vain, to cook for one, and eat for one. It seems impossible to learn, and not that enjoyable. So I made the most of this occasion to cook big batches of lots of dishes, enough for leftovers. It was the perfect day to make lemon curd, and I roasted both onions and Brussels sprouts, keeping back half for myself.

The giant sunflower plants in front are dangerously close to breaking their branches and/or falling over, so I pruned them and cut some of the blooms to add to the dinner box.

This is the first year I’ve ever grown a tomatillo. My neighbor gave me a seedling that he had started. It is branching out everywhere with yard-long stems, and the husks that will house the fruit, as yet unformed, are tender lime-green lanterns. In this next picture it’s climbing over a tomato vine so there is a confusion of types of leaves.

Wikipedia says, “The wild tomatillo and related plants are found everywhere in the Americas except in the far north, with the highest diversity in Mexico. In 2017, scientists reported on their discovery and analysis of a fossil tomatillo found in the Patagonian region of Argentina, dated to 52 million years BP. The finding has pushed back the earliest appearance of the Solanaceae plant family of which the tomatillo is one genus.”

I asked a man from Oaxaca, Mexico what his family does with tomatillos, and he didn’t know of any use but salsa, which is also the only thing I had ever heard. Does any of you have a good recipe for tomatillos, or another use? They don’t look like they’ll be ripe anytime soon, but I should be ready with a plan!