Ocean and Sky

               

                Pages from the book "America through my eyes"

A few months of the year I live in Carpinteria, a town on the Pacific Ocean.  Every day I walk along the shore, whose outline constantly changes. At times the beach is broad, its light-yellow sand stretching almost a hundred meters wide in some places. At others times it is narrow, submerged by the surf.

During a storm the waves come up to structures built close
to the ocean. Often there are storms in winter. Late November to early December the Coast Guard workers use tractors to move sand to make protective walls near hotel buildings on the shore. A wall is made high enough to provide the hotels with protection from the raging storms. Because of this danger, year-round monitoring of the storms’ strength has been carried out for many years on this part of the Pacific coast.

I once witnessed a protective wall blunt the power of a breaking wave. During one storm, the waves were almost reaching the top of the wall. If the wall had not been there the waves would have swept through the ground floors of the hotels. The wall hides the view of the coast and the ocean from visitors staying on the ground floors. In winter visitors always avoid staying on the lower levels. Children enjoy using the sand walls for downhill sledding on cardboard; they like running along the sand walls or digging into them.

Often, after a storm, ledges of sand form on the bank. The outline of the banks vary with the density of the sand. In some places, the ledges are up to a meter high, and I personally don’t want to risk stepping on such an insecure surface. One day, I was walking on the beach with a woman friend, along the edge of the water, when suddenly a rogue wave almost caught us. We both instantly rushed toward the ledge, trying to outrun the water.

Supporting myself on my arms, I jumped up, and got myself to the top of the ledge, lying on my stomach with my knees bent, having suffered no harm. But my friend failed to escape, and was left with her trousers wet to above the knee. When we were both on top of the ledge, we laughed so hard that it took us a long time to calm down.

When the tide is coming in, the ocean captivates with its beauty
and power. The ocean and the sky above it are a sight that never bores you. They are always changing, and always beautiful with the sun  shining and the grey sky hanging over the dark blue ocean, and even when you can barely see in the fog. Then the sky seems to merge with the ocean.  Fog over Carpinteria and the Pacific Ocean creeps from the mountains - from the Coastal Range. It shrouds buildings, trees, the shore and water with a thick veil. Then, Anacapa Island, in the ocean off Carpinteria, and the oilwell platforms between the island and the shore, disappear from sight. Walking along the beach, you cannot see more than five meters ahead.

Whether the ocean is calm, or rough, people look at it, unable to look away. At sunset, locals and tourists come just to look at this miracle. The view of the solar disk setting beyond the horizon is fascinating. Sinking slowly into the ocean, it gradually changes from dazzling yellow  impossible to look at without sunglasses, to bright yellow. The ocean reflects its rays in the form of a path of light. During sunset and immediately after, the clouds in the sky are tinted in a variety of colors that represent a spectacle of indescribable beauty. For me, the contemplation of the ocean and sky above it means not just admiring the beauty of nature, but enjoying the healing effect of the colors. The relentless movement of the two elements calms me and makes  me forget all my hardships. Troubles seem minor and easily surmountable.

Often the disk of the sun at sunset is covered with clouds, which means that tomorrow it won’t be sunny. If the disk is red, the coming day will be windy. And how beautiful is the ocean and the sky, when the full moon rises! Then you see pictures of the Russian artist Kuindzhi in front of you in a landscape of other latitudes. When it rains in Carpinteria, you can often see a rainbow in the sky over the beach. Those walking along the shore are always in a hurry to capture this delightful view with the cameras.

On the Southern California coast there is a cold current. The water in the ocean is cold. In previous years I have almost never seen people swimming. The exceptions are the surfers wearing their wet suits, waiting for the right wave to ride. Last year I saw many young people, and especially children in the water, who did not seem to have a sense of fear. Many of them did not swim; just jumped in the waves. I once saw a swimmer who swam quite a long distance. This year there have been many swimmers, as the summer has been hot and the water in the ocean has warmed up.

Once I saw a girl with a tattoo on her thigh, boldly heading towards the ocean where there were quite strong waves. Not far from the shore surfers were riding them. We exchanged greetings with the girl, as is customary among people who meet on the beach, and I wondered, if she really goes into the water. At this moment, we were almost overtaken with the other wave. We immediately jumped back, and both of us laughed loudly. Being a little further away from the water, I remained dry, and the girl got her feet wet. Then she leaned, slightly patted the water with her palms and returned to her place. I was puzzled why did she goes to the water so resolutely?

Our bay is bounded by two headlands – on the right by a pile of boulders protruding into the ocean, and on the left – by a high bank behind which the protected territory of the Harbor seal reserve begins. Over the past a few years, I have been watching the ocean waves beating against these impregnable fortresses on both sides. Sometimes during storms and tides, the ocean water flooded the part of the beach near the ridge of boulders. Once I seemed to be a gaper, and almost got in the water. I felt a wave coming up behind me, and I managed to jump to the fourth step of a ladder among the boulders leading to a cottage.
 
During a storm grooves are often formed in the sand and they are filled with tide water. Small children like to splash in these big puddles with their bare feet; some manage to swim in them.

Wandering around the streets or the Carpinteria beach, sometimes I witness the most unexpected phenomena. Once I saw something very long high floating above my head, stretching across the entire sky and having a cylindrical shape. What was it? Airplane trail? I've never seen this! Is it a cloud? Just one cloud in the sky, and of such an unusual shape? I see people hastily photographing this sight.

One day I noticed two men in rain gears in the ocean not far from the coast, who, standing knee-deep in the water, were trying literally to stick the pitchforks into the sandy bottom. The pitchforks were not as big as those used by Russian farm workers to make hay stacks in the old days, and may be still use anywhere to make them, but anyway I saw such a scene in the ocean for the first time. There was a storm at the ocean. I really wanted to understand what these men were doing. Whether they loosened the bottom to make the water soak into the sand before it could reach the shore, and get close to the cottages? Whether they uprooted seaweed? I was on tiptoe with curiosity and was about to take off my training shoes to go into the water, to ask the "diggers" themselves about it. But suddenly I saw "the ninth wave"  approaching the shore and I decided not to risk my life for the sake of curiosity. I discovered they were extracting large shells brought by the storm to the shore and buried in the sand. To verify this, I asked the girl passed by:
- What are they doing?
She said she did not know. Then I asked the same question to a man, a local resident, without being sure that I would understand the answer, but trying to remember it. He said:
- They are clamming, - and showed that the men were gathering something that can reach large proportions. I referred to the dictionary. It turned out that they were digging for clams.

Edited by my American friend and fellow writer Alicia Mitchell.