Lest you feel that my morning walks along the Gulf have been absent thoughts about what Alfred Lord Tennyson called, "nature red in tooth and claw," I thought I'd post some of the truth about the beautiful seashore.
Just above the wave's reach stand fisherman reeling in desperate finned creatures with jagged barbed hooks. And each of these million upon million of shells was once filled with a living creature, now gone. Each birds flight does not end with a happy ending, and maybe T.S. Eliot was wrong to wish, "I should have been a pair of ragged claws, scuttling across the floors of silent seas."Well, as Eliot also wrote, "I have
heard the mermaids singing, each to each," but I've also heard a barrel-chested sunburnt wag shout, "Honey can you grab me a beer, and the sunblock."
Of course, then there's the sand Buddha and gator, and suddenly life seems sweet again.
1 comment:
If you're starting to notice the cigarette butts, it's time to come home. We have loads of them, waiting to be photographed! (And lots of nice graffiti and garbage too.)
Vijay
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