Laguna Beach. Bronzed and tanned, Laguna Beach stretches out on beach chair and blanket. Sunbathers aligned for the best angle, rotate on the half hour for proper grilling. The watchful lifeguard tower anchors Main Beach and announces the surf with red or yellow or green. Brown Pelicans dive in pairs for fish dinners, invariably served with seaweed. High-strung seagulls laugh and cry at the angst of it all. Bird Rock juts out into the sea like the bow of a ship–to old to fight but too proud to sink. Here wave succeeds translucent wave while camelled cliffs and patient palms watch and wait in silent expectation. Each wave tests its strength upon the rocks spraying high like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Along the sanded crescent beach, shy waves linger out at sea while the braver and more daring make a mad dash for shore–swelling, cresting, falling, foaming–laughing back into the sea, lining up to try again. On shore the sable sand is smoothed by each succeeding wave and sandpipers tiptoe in the tide as if afraid to get wet feet. Abandoned castles–engineered by their young owners for permanence–bravely resist three more waves. The tide advances and then retreats leaving smooth what was disturbed.
David.
Words and photos by David S Penner (all rights reserved)
David. On life. 