Today I decided to go for one last walk along the ocean before we head inland. But before that walk Rudy and I headed out for breakfast, back to the establishments surrounding the Parque de los Novios. We chose a new place and Rudy had his morning cappuccino and I had an iced coffee. Already it was hot and the thought of a hot drink was not at all appealing. (I have even forgone my morning cup of tea. No need to heat up the apartment or myself more than necessary.) Rudy finally got the waffles and fruit he has been wishing for for quite some time and I had a French egg on toast with avocado and feta cheese. What is a French egg you may ask? It is an omelette.
After breakfast, I dropped Rudy off at the door of our apartment building and headed out for an adventure. This time I followed the beaches as far as I could go until I hit the river. The water appeared less murky today away from the main harbour. In fact, I felt more optimistic about the state of the world. I stopped to watch a flock of egrets playing on the shore and for a time I was carried away with the beauty of the scene.
Along the beach there were families in the water; a dad laughing and splashing his kids, a man in the water letting himself be pushed by the waves. In the distance there were men raking the shore and cleaning the litter. And in my present mood even the piles of random flip flops, kids’ runners, and running shoe soles that were piled artistically on the sand tangled with seaweed and stones were beautiful. As I continued down the beach it was harder to frame the junk that was scattered everywhere as anywhere near appealing. The beach was full of it. I began to document it all with my camera. There was a teepee-like structure made of driftwood and old towels with the interior of it littered with bottles, plastic bags and bottle caps. The waves had deposited piles of tangled debris that from a distance looked like nests but on closer inspection where piles of garbage tangled in organic matter. By squinting my eyes and looking out to sea it was immense and beautiful and awe inspiring. But looking down at my feet…..
When I got home and looked through my photos to put into this blog I chuckled. What I had in my photo gallery (besides the above pictures) was about 10 pictures of yours truly (and they weren’t very flattering either). I had accidentally pushed the screen reverse and because it was so bright and I had my sunglasses on, I couldn’t seen the screen and was shooting blindly. So, no pictures of all the garbage juxtaposed with the vast and beautiful ocean or the city skyline. Nothing that might show some interesting photo journalism.
On the way home I stopped to take some photos of some of the murals across the street from our place. These fish paintings are on the big wall just across the street from our apartment — each fish is about 5 feet tall.
Back home Rudy and I ate leftovers from the fridge for lunch, I plunged into the pool to cool off and started a new book by Wallace Stegner called The Spectator Bird and Rudy resumed whatever it is he does during the day. (I am sure all that reading of politics is going to solve some of the big world problems we are experiencing.)
Tomorrow we must pack and head off to Minca.