Coastline Pilot/LA TIMES

5 September 2003

 

Chasing the Muse

By Catharine Cooper

 

 

20 miles out, headed toward the coast and ‘she’ begins to change the world.  Her scent lightly fills the air.  She beckons - a hint of salt - a dampness fragranced with kelp and broken shells.  20 miles out, yet my mind fleshes the shape and texture of her surroundings.  I know the edges of her body by heart.  I’ve imprinted her vocalizations and memorized her tidal flows.  Closer still and the muscles in my body relax.  I sense her proximity, there, at the end of a narrow eucalyptus lined canyon.  Always waiting, always constant:  the azure blue sea. 

 

Funny how the ocean slides into your brain, and once wedged, is impossible to dislodge.  As if the body that first walked from the waters remembers and is comforted by the proximity to its aqueous origin.   Those lucky enough to grow up on the coast, and those later transplanted, find it difficult to leave.  

 

We sacrifice to live here.  We pay exorbitant prices for real estate and rent.  We struggle with traffic snakes and snarls that can make a grown man cry.  We are challenged for parking during the summer crush when we share our treasured village with an onslaught of curious tourists.  We wait for these days - the dog days of summer, when the weather is spectacular and the bulk of the extra population has moved on.

 

And quietly or noisily, we slip back into the waters.  We toss our surfboards into the waves, slide into our kayaks and drink of the soothing effect of saltwater ions.  The seas and coastline are once again our own.  Our dogs run the beaches, our children frolic in the sand.  What’s not to love about Laguna?

 

This space on the edge, this sparkling gem tucked in the southern section of western America’s coastline, is indeed, a remarkable place to live.  And woven through it all - the coast, and our mandate to protect her.  The City’s “Vision Laguna 2030” includes within the Environmental Responsibility section, the formation of  “Ocean Laguna” or “Laguna Bluebelt,” a type of guidance system for the resource that holds us all to this place.   It’s goal:  to “establish a … non-profit organization to preserve and protect beaches, inter-tidal zone, water-sheds, and water quality.”

 

Urban run-off, sewage spills and toxic dumps affect not only us, but the inhabitants of the blue waters.  On a recent kayak journey I was stunned to find myself in the midst of a slick of motor oil, its stench turned my nostrils and its floating stickiness clung to the sides of my boat.  I quietly willed all sea birds away from substance and cursed whichever human was responsible for the dump.  While we can choose to not enter the water, the creatures for whom the water is home are not so lucky.  

 

The Annual Water Quality Update, issued by the City in May, 2003, includes notes about their comprehensive water quality management plan, with stringent regulations for construction, grading and water runoff.  It identifies the three most common activities which produce urban runoff as:  1- Washing down sidewalks and driveways to the gutter, 2- Concrete spills and construction cleaning in the gutter, and 3- Irrigation and sprinkler over watering to street gutters.  The document further describes easy solutions, such as using a broom, instead of water, for clean-up, and properly directing sprinkler systems off the streets - easy steps that each of us can take to protect the quality of our shared seashore.

 

The ocean has always been a source of great physical pleasure, as well as emotional solace.   The constancy of her ebb and flow, as well as her seemingly limitless horizon, soothes and balances my psyche, as it has since first we met.  It’s true.  I’ve been having an affair with the ocean since my father first tossed me in the water at six months of age.  She is my friend, my lover, my confessor, my trainer and my coach.  She gently wakens with cool morning light and then fiery, steps down to darkness with the setting sun.   She marks my days and my nights.  I hold her closely, tucked within my heart.

 

—xx—

 

Catharine Cooper loves wild places.  She can be reached at ccooper@cooperdesign.net or 714 296 5250.