Sea Smoke
In the early morning, before the sea fog has burnt off
before the turquoise sky has influenced the colour of the ocean
you drive obfuscated up the coast highway
your hair falling damply over your forehead
from your last walk on Toro Creek beach
like red tendrils of a strange seaweed
beyond the shoulder of the road
you glimpse a wave crest breaking bright through the grey
silence. Silence and damp anticipation
sea otters are out there, invisible, riding the surf on their backs
threading the flesh from crabs for their breakfast
even the sparkling iridescence of the shore’s ice plants is dulled
just north of Harmony you turn off from the sea
begin the journey to Bakersfield along Green Valley Road
curving through the folded volcanic hills pouring down to meet the ocean
weighty body of the fog makes secret marine creatures
from oncoming cars, dull embers of eyes are suddenly upon you
you switch off the car radio to hear the silence more keenly
the sea smoke slowly undulates, separated from the shore
and hovers in pockets out over the Coastal Range, yearning for the sea
you look up to an unexpected break in the sky, powder blue
then you are out of the fog, defiant wisps grasping in your wake
you traverse the cleavage of softly rolling hills
and into the valleys of those voluptuous, verdant peaks.
