That fucking cat - a member of the menagerie I'm watching over - wakes me at five a.m. with his annoying meowing and his fucking bell, the bell I want to shove down his meowing little throat. I get up to put out the cats and dogs. The scene on the beach distracts me from thoughts of a cat-killing spree.
It's sardine season in Kino Bay.
I'm staying at the far end of the bay, about six miles from my trailer. There are birds everywhere - gulls, pelicans, terns, a lone heron - resting and preening on the beach as they await their turn at the sardine buffet. The air is wet, the sky hazy most likely from the Monument Fire north of here.
|As the sun rises, the colors change.|
|The pelicans critique the meal.|
|The gull waits.|
|Time to shake off those wings and prepare for the second course.|
I feed the two cats, three dogs. We watch the news from Arizona, keeping tabs on the fire. I'm back at my trailer by eight, ready for a nap. Getting up that early is for the birds. Seriously.
The feeding frenzy continues. PJ and I decide to go for a swim. Watching this scene from the beach is one thing; being in the midst of diving terns and pelicans is a whole 'nother thing. We're floating in a school of sardines, they brush against our legs, our arms. Pelicans corkscrew into the water a few feet from our heads. I hope they don't mistake my lime-green painted toenails for shiny little fish.
High tides, high seas, high humidity. It's summer in Kino Bay.