In Noyo Harbor’s calm, where boats convene,
I row amidst the fleet, a tranquil scene.
The morning mist gives way to gentle light,
As seagulls cry and swoop in graceful flight.
The fishermen prepare for ocean’s yield,
Their nets and lines, the secrets they’ll reveal.
My oars dip soft in water’s mirror clear,
Each stroke a melody I love to hear.
Amongst the boats that tell of briny tales,
I find my peace, where salty air prevails.
Beneath the redwood’s shade, a trillium bloomed,
Its petals white, like winter’s early snow.
In hidden corners, beauty has assumed,
A fragile grace where giants gently grow.
Today, I found this secret, softly plumed.
Amid the waves and salty air, a dump,
Where glass was tossed and broken with a thump.
The jagged shards lay hidden in the sand,
A graveyard formed by careless human hand.
Yet time, with patience, smoothed each shattered edge,
Transforming trash along the rocky ledge.
Now sparkling gems of green and brown and blue
Adorn the shore, a sight for all to view.
From refuse came a beauty unforeseen,
Glass Beach now glows, a testament serene.
Beneath the tide, the pools reveal their life,
With anemones swaying in the sea,
Starfish cling to rocks where waves are rife,
Crabs scuttle, hiding from the gulls that flee,
On Mendocino’s shores, nature’s secrets lie.
Boletes under pines,
Noyo River whispers soft,
Nature’s silent song.
Otters frolic by the Noyo’s bend,
In redwoods tall, their joy extends.
Splash and dive, their sleek forms blend,
On mossy banks, their laughter rends.
Nature’s symphony, where wildness mends.
As rivers flow, the coho’s journey nears,
Their ancient path, through currents, trials, and fears.
With steadfast grace, they heed the call divine,
To spawn anew, their legacy enshrine.
In cycles endless, nature’s dance persists.
I’ve been most fortunate. There is a saying in martial arts that when the student is ready the master appears. That has been a Hallmark if my life. Sometimes memories come charging at one right out of the blue and this one was completely unexpected. When I was in College at the university of Maine it was the Portland campus I started at. It wasxa typical commuter school. It was close to home and I’d walk. On my way I went by the beautiful gardens of Temple Beth El. I used to sit and admire the plantings in the garden and one time there was a gentleman tending to the plants. He approached me and we chatted. I asked about the garden and he pointed out some of the plants and told me a bit about them. I made it a point to visit the gardens going to and from school. The gentleman was there occasionally andc we’d engage in discussions of current events, of philosophy and the sciences.
The Dean of Students at the College started an discussion group at lunch once a week. It was by invitation only and frequently had a guest from the community. The guest was often a leader of note and we’d discuss all kinds of topics over lunch. One day I showed up for our lunch and the gentleman I had been talking to in the Gardens of Temple Beth El wascsested in the place of honor to the right of the Dean. He was Introduced as Rabbi Harry Sky. In the introduction the Dean told us that Rabbi Sky was a equal rights activist. That Rabbi Sky had marchef with Dr. Martin Luther King in Selma and was very close to Dr King. Rabbi Sky was also an activist involved with the women’s rights movement. It was the mid to late 1960s and we were in the middle of the rights movements as well as the antiwar movements and Rabbi Sky was heavily involved. All of a sudden I saw our garden talks in a very different perspective. Rabbi Sky was there in the flesh. His words took on a much more authoritative tone to me. We would still chat in the gardens but I learned much from the man. He caused the formation of many of my life’s principals. He never proselytized or tried to convert me he just kept it open and honest. I left for The Air Force and didn’t see Rabbi Sky again but the impression he left on me certainly remains. Rabbi Sky was one of my favorite mentors and thinking of our discussions in the beautiful gardens still warms my heart.
In forests deep, where shadows softly loom,
Among the damp and dark, where fungi bloom,
Mushrooms arise, in shapes both strange and fair,
Their whispered secrets float upon the air,
In silent dance, they weave their mystic spell.
In redwood groves, where silence reigns supreme, Tall sentinels embrace the azure sky. Their ancient whispers echo through the mist, A symphony of nature’s grand design. Through centuries they’ve stood, withstanding time, Their mighty trunks, a testament to strength. In every bough, a story lies entwined, Of resilience and life’s enduring length. Their roots, like veins, connect the earth below, In redwood forests, life continues to grow.
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