Sea Level

Yesterday evening I sat out on the deck to watch the sunset, which it did very slowly. The sun itself is hidden by Mount Tam, so the fascinating thing is watching the changes of light on the water, which glows like a living thing against the reeds, and the breakwater, the islands and finally, the Richmond Bridge with Oakland beyond. The tide was just coming in, quite fast at first, and the ducks arrived home in a hurry, and I could see the egrets flocking to East Marin Island where they nest, very conspicuous against the darkness of the trees.

I sat watching the colours change in the sky, reversing from blue and yellow to pink and blue, Suscipe sitting peacefully on my chest, rather warm despite the deliciously smelly low-tide breeze and my chilled white wine.

By the time the transformation was complete the lights on the bridge and Oakland were brightest, and I could see the line of planes taking off from SFO like heavy metal stars, against the swallows and the odd late hurrying duck. If I squinted I could centre a star in the middle of my prized circular driftwood. How much wine did I have?