Where We Live

 

Good morning!

Here is a beautiful scene at sunset, here in Chula Vista.  This was taken at the Sweetwater River ( a crick) estuary, where the river empties into the south part of San Diego Bay.   There's a Marina, where boats can moor, a park to walk in, some restaurants to eat at, and some wonderful views. Mainly, there are lots and lots of birds.  We have enjoyed the birds for years.  A pair or two of nesting herons provides us with  a sense of awe, as they raise their huge chicks in twig nests high up in a couple of pine trees.  Many many little coots live here out on the bay itself or in the more sheltered part of the tidal estuary, where water and mud flats appear in measured intervals.  There are long legged walking birds with long curved beaks too. I love those almost the best.  But when we are down there at winter sunset, as we were when this picture was taken, it's the little coots that catch in my heart as they paddle by in little platoons, brave in the darkening cold waters.

The light is different every night. A few nights before that picture above was taken, we saw such a sunset as I never expect to see again in my lifetime.  A huge panorama of light and cloud built a second seacoast up there in the sky, complete with waves, beach, light, motion, bigger than the one on this earth.  The quiet rosy cold sky above is the exact color that everything was in February 2011. Breathtaking.

That big building is a derelict power plant. That is, I guess it no longer produces any power at all. When I first lived down here twenty or more years ago, I used to call it The Emerald City, for at night it was lighted up by myriad greenish lightbulbs that gave it a weird beauty.  Now, various factions in the city are battling about who's to tear it down.  When that has happened,  a fabulous resort is to be built.  People with lots of money can come and enjoy the area, and what will happen to those birds I do not know.  Nor do I know what will happen to the people who congregate there every evening to watch the sun go down.  A strange hush falls over all those who have attended.  It is the time for meditation, wonder, and exaltation.  It is a powerful ritual, simple and intinctual.  And the little ducks go by as it gets darker and darker, hurrying to their nests in the marsh grass, way back beyond the estuary mud.  YAZZYBEL