When you live where you can walk along a beautiful path every day, you are a lucky sort. I am a lucky sort – these views never get old. Many places in world are beautiful, and the Central California coastline where I live is one.
I leave my shoes by the dunes, and fight with the dry sand to get to the water’s edge. Barefoot walking, in and out of the tide, soothes my feet. The sea birds let me pass, but don’t give up their feeding grounds unless I get very close. It’s a tricky business, trying to guess the correct distance from each bird. The tall blue herons are in a large group today and may feel bolder than usual. The tiny snowy plovers have moved away from the surf. The curlews are so ever-present they hardly glance at my passing. I thread my steps back and forth, closer to the waves and then farther away, depending on what I guess is a polite distance from the wildlife. I guess wrong. The great blue herons are nervous – or maybe I made some unintentional noise. Away they fly.
The great blues are here in force today. It’s springtime, and the bird families are teaching their young to fish. Watch this one as s/he catches, swallows and catches again. See the lump in the long, long neck?
The night herons are back after a winter’s absence. For the first time, I notice how long their necks are stretched out full-length. More often I see them in a group, hunched down, facing the cold wind together. I watch their antics for a while, and wonder if these are a different kind of heron than I think they are. Newcomers?
Along my neighborhood walk, there is a majestic icon. Morro Rock, the stunning volcanic plug that anchors the 3-mile long beach, sits ready for a photograph every day. Sometimes the sun shines on the irregular surfaces, sometimes mist plays around the rock. Either way, it’s a fitting touchstone, and I use this as my turn-around point.
I work my way back to my shoes, feel my thighs worry with the effort of walking through the dunes to the beach entrance. I think I’ll stop for a bit at the bench near the dunes, if the black bird will share it.
It’s springtime. Flowers have blossomed, the dunes-side bushes bloomed. But if you remember the colors of a month ago, you can see the fade already beginning. The surrounding hillsides have already changed from a full-mountain satin-ny green to a soft yellow. Wherever you are, I wish you peaceful neighborhood walks.
One Small Walk... 
Fantastic to see the herons so closely. I’ve never managed to get up close with one. 🙂
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RJo – Ours here are a bit shy, but there are so many right now, they can’t all escape!
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The birds are so beautiful! I love where we live but we don’t have paths close by like you do.
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That’s one of the real benefits of living here – there has been a great effort to connect a coastal path (I think down your way, too.) It doesn’t extend the entire way, which is a shame, but there are plenty 3-5 mile sections that are very walk-able.
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What s lovely walk that was! Nice to see you too have the GBHs as your company now.
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They are not so colorful as some of yours (rosy spoonbills!! honest to goodness it looks like someone gets up every morning to put their make-up on) – but the Blues are magnificent.
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Susan, we’ve been lucky enough to live at the beach on both coasts (Florida, Georgia, and Oregon). And while they’re both big, blue oceans, it’s amazing how different the wildlife and the overall feel of the coasts are. As you say, you’re lucky to have access to such great trails for walking. ~James
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James – what a great adventure you’ve had. I’ve always thought that coastlines on the east coast of the USA have a better walking experience (so many boardwalks.) But I have no complaints here – in fact, a pod of porpoises swam and leaped past me in the water today on my walk. Simply wonderful!
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