Moss Landing

Pacific Sunset
into a

Panorama of Pinkness


A morning storm had cleared the skies and activated the surf.  Leaving nothing but the most delicate layer of fog.  Almost invisible.  Just a wisp of it lining the shore, pinkly.

Sunset into a clear liquid Pink sky

Panoramically.  Just this exquisite lucid Pinkness.  Slowly darkening Pinkness.

Moss Landing 'lands' at the bottom of the of Monterey Bay (off the Pacific Coast, just south of Santa Cruz).  Monterey Bay is not quite a 'bay' but actually a crescent like the arc of a new moon.  Northerned by Santa Cruz and Southerned by Monterey.

Moss Landing settles at the center of this cusp.  Upon which it 'lands'.  Home port of "The Western Flyer", MBARI and snuggling next to it: Phil's (good seafood!).  Jürgen picks me up Sunday here in San Jose for the hour+ drive to Moss Landing.

From what I remember, I think sunset was about 4:55pm.

Jürgen's never seen Moss Landing before so I show him the "The Western Flyer" (in port and dominating all) and MBARI (the renown marine research institute).  And the beach which we walk along debating whether to eat first before the sunset (about 4:55pm, another hour or so).  Laughing and talking.  He walks up to the surf.  I warn him.  I've learned my lesson on those little tsunami's.  All you get are cold and wet feet.  If the sand is wet, I respect it.  I warn him again.  Perhaps he also thinks he can intimidate that surf (with that pompous German bureaucratic blustering of his).  Then fleeing from it.  "I told you so!" laughing at him.  "Oh no!" as he drags me along after that next ebb.  So we both flee this time.

Maybe get 3 miles in along the coast didn't even notice it laughing, talking.

I've never seen such an unusual and spectacular sunset.  Into a clear lucid Pink sky.  Slowly darkening.

Into the clear silhouetting outline of that cusp of the curving shore of Monterey Bay.  And we have the 'perfect' view of it all at the center: Moss Landing.  Just this exquisite lucid Pinkness.  Panoramically.  Slowly darkening Pinkness.  Lined by just a whisper of this most delicate layer of pink fog.

The sun has left.  Into this darkening and pure Panorama of Pinkness.  As we make it back.  To Phil's.  And it's windy and cold.

But none of it means anything unless you can share it with someone you enjoy being with.  Jürgen is perfect.  Intelligent and fun.

And the wind picks up and it's cold.  As we make it back and head for that little sandy path from the beach to Phil's and warmth.  And Jürgen also has to acknowledge ("not laughing") it was an unusual sunset (he's not prone to "taking such things seriously"! .. btw, Phil's a riot too!).

And that sole plate I had was perfect too, this time.