Abandoning the fallen sky

After our short, unplanned visit to "It's A Burl!" we continued on 199 until we were eventually welcomed to California, and hopped over to 101 shortly following. Soon after entering Redwood National Park (stopping only to collect a trail map) we finally reached Crescent City and the ocean crept closer to us on the GPS, threatening to reveal itself at any moment. A couple minutes south of the city, our proximity to the water secured a hint of blue teetering on the edge of the cliff, and we drove forward to a vista that ensured full splendor with just one step out of the car.


We pulled to a stop, grabbed our cameras, prepared a few vials, and excitedly exited the car. Upon full standing height, we simultaneously beheld an ocean new to us, bigger and foggier than our coast had ever been. We walked down the pebbly beach to small ponds of water trapped in valleys of the sandy hills. Taking pictures and collecting samples, we stood coating our hides in salty air, using it as a preservative not for our skin, but for place and time instead.



We decided not to waste much time at this beach and continued south to Edert's Beach Trail where excellent tide pools were promised to us. Upon arrival at the trailhead, it became clear that to reach the rocky ponds required a hike down the cliffs to the shore below. After the surprising amount of warnings against theft at this particular trail, we locked up our valuables and made our way down the path to the large boulder below.






Clamoring down, we went through a small stone tunnel, past a massive fallen redwood and across the beach over to the kelp wasteland left by receding waters.



Like the crumbled ruins of old city walls filled with the swaying instability of low tide, the pools lay before us like shrapnel from a broken snow globe full of ocean water. As if the sky had fallen onto the rocks and all its stars had been given corporeal form upon contact, the stone sat dark and glistening, speckled with spiny sea stars in shades of blood, wine, and peach. Looking like a radioactive experiment gone wrong, sea slugs and putridly green anemones clung with slimy fervor to the crevices.








Soon we had no choice but to relent our explorations and give way to the rising tide, made our way back over the black stone beach marbled with white quartz and up the path once again to the car. With new significance to the idea of stars in our eyes, we begrudgingly ended the days activities and made our way back to restaurant row to satiate a simpler hunger.



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