The wind was howling in Malibu today. A eucalyptus tree toppled over and barely missed the house it once shaded. Down by the beach, consecutive gusts created rivers of blowing sand that swept over the ground and erased footprints within its path. Mare's tails were blown in long wisps atop the crest of each wave.
In the early afternoon, there was a low tide, a negative tide of close to two feet. Taking photographs of the tidepools and experimenting with my new camera seemed to be a great idea at the time. Of course, that was before the wind started showing some major attitude.
Although grains of sand sometimes ended up in my eyes and my skin was sometimes abraded by the relentless blasts, pictures were on my mind, and somehow or another I planned on taking those photos. And, I did. And, it was a lesson in futility, especially when attempting to take pictures of wildlife while being blown sideways, backward, forward, you name it.
Was it worth it? Well, it kept me busy for two hours, and it was good exercise. What struck me as odd was that a couple of guys on horseback would ride by the day after I published the post about Apollo. I'm unaccustomed to that sight. Maybe it's a sign. Ha!
