Gualala— The Omniscient Gyre
Gualala—a Northern California town located on
the coast. The name is derived from
the Kashaya Pomo “ah kha wa la lee— where the water flows down.”
Gyre—a large system of circular ocean currents formed by global
wind patterns and forces created by the Earth's rotation.
It’s a curious situation that the sea, from
which life first arose,
should now be threatened by the activities of one form
of that life.
But the sea, though changed in a sinister way,
will continue to
exist: the threat is rather to life itself.”
June
8th was World Oceans Day.
As we move into summer, grab our towels, boogie boards, and head for the beach,
it’s time to think about the world’s oceans and how to preserve these natural
wonders.
From
the rise in the sea level due to global warming to agricultural pesticides and
sewage run off, oil spills, air pollution, acidification,
overfishing, and the Earth’s garbage, the oceans are under barrage.
The ocean is the largest ecosystem on
Earth—it is the planet's life support
system. Oceans generate half of the oxygen we breathe and, at any given moment—they
contain more than 97% of the world's water.
Gualala
I kissed the fog’s lips,
cold breath of goldenrod and lupine
A cacophony of silence:
A well-seasoned fiddler crab seizes the first movement,
I tasted the sky’s intransigence,
Tributaries, branches and bluffs locked in a furtive embrace
—Jeff Key
Gualala—a Northern California town located on
the coast. The name is derived from
the Kashaya Pomo “ah kha wa la lee— where the water flows down.”
It’s a curious situation that the sea, from
which life first arose,
should now be threatened by the activities of one form
of that life.
But the sea, though changed in a sinister way,
will continue to
exist: the threat is rather to life itself.”
—Rachel Carson, The Sea Around Us, Marine Biologist,
Environmental Writer
The ocean is the largest ecosystem on
Earth—it is the planet's life support
system. Oceans generate half of the oxygen we breathe and, at any given moment—they
contain more than 97% of the world's water.
Gualala
I kissed the fog’s lips,
cold breath of goldenrod and lupine
parted to reveal weather-worn cuspids,
milled from a sore-knuckled, arthritic cypress,
caught in the rise and fall of the omniscient gyre.
A cacophony of silence:
salt licking stone,
pollen drifting,
bubbles burrowing,
all moving with the precision of a finely tuned ensemble.
A well-seasoned fiddler crab seizes the first movement,
summoning the swell of a crescendo
before surrendering the rondo to a clawed sea spider
flailing its eight finely tuned limbs
as the tide unfurls the final curtain.
I tasted the sky’s intransigence,
swallowing the banter between gale and luster.
An irascible squall stakes its claim on a promontory,
hovering at the continent’s edge.
Tributaries, branches and bluffs locked in a furtive embrace
don shimmering gowns of blue-green algae
before rushing into the sea—
drawn by the call of
a peripatetic wave.
—Jeff Key
