From Dawn to Dusk

by Zachary Choi

Her heavenly hills hide under a blanket of opaque morning fog. Towards the frigid coast, an invisible squabble of seagulls squawks upon discovering a school of fish. The birds work tirelessly to avoid the tall waves as they break, displacing sand, sea life, and water with a boom. The roar is returned and amplified by the steep cliff walls. Gusts of wind carry sea spray from the coast to our camp. The same gusts of wind struggle to pull off our rain fly as it flaps against our tent. But the loudest noise of all is the absence of the flies; their chaotic buzz replaced by a serene silence. As the hours go by and the flies come out, the cold morning fades and the warm evening comes about. Without the fog, the coast of Pt. Reyes is free to be examined by the senses. A lonely hawk circles overhead, yearning for a companion. Pt. Reyes comforts it, speaking in the rustling of eucalyptus leaves, like rain hitting the pavement. She exhales the cool refreshing ocean air, carrying hints of musty seaweed and kelp. Pt. Reyes comes alive in the evening. Her trees split the dry sallow expanse with lively green formations. Organic bumps on one of these trees create tiny caricatures of bark. Dry and grimy, my fingers, coarse from nature’s touch, feel the topographical grooves made by tiny bugs on one of her fallen leafy soldiers. As she exhales, the lush sea breeze tickles day-old bug bites thirsty to be itched. The sweaty stench of my friends’ grimy bodies leaves me starstruck for another hit of sea breeze. As my nostrils recover, my eyes settle on the black silhouettes of a squadron of pelicans. Their wings flap as they bathe in the shimmering waters. The golden light makes the Pt. Reyes coast a truly beautiful sight to behold. Now the sun is setting, casting rays of purple, orange, red, and yellow across the sky. My body yearns to be home and to be here forever at the same time. My mind is resigned to the peaceful state of the ocean; from dawn to dusk, she tempts me to stay.