Land’s End: Cabo San Lucas, Baja California Sur and the surrounding seas
When lightening flashes in a land that cries for rain and the prehistoric silhouette of a frigatebird is poured from the lip of the big dipper, one might ponder what this day might bring.
Sand dunes piled like snow upon the flank of Cabo Falso where a lonely lighthouse stands. Its beam blinked monotonously, illuminating our faces as we stared toward the east awaiting the rising sun. Flames crept from the sea setting the clouds on fire. With a flash of green, the golden orb appeared signaling that our day had begun.
There is always gold at the end of the rainbow, or at least a treasure of sorts. Friar’s Rocks, carved by the merging seas, appeared amber in the early morning light. Tall stacks were tickled by the spectral colors until the avian beings roosting there spread their long wings and soared skyward, riding the developing thermals ever higher. Where the surf lapped gently beneath the famous arch, somnolent sea lions barked good morning. Inside the protected harbor mobula rays tried to fly, their counter-shaded forms leaping high in a gracefully choreographed dance.
Cabo San Lucas buzzed with activity as we slipped through the sport fishing fleet and nestled into our berth. Snorkelers made a quick escape to the beaches east of town where the underwater world glittered with colorful jewel-like fish. Nature lovers too were drawn away to a verdant thorn-scrub preserve. Flowers screamed of springtime rains, their blossoms large and brilliant. Lesser goldfinches and Scott’s orioles modeled the season’s colors of yellow and black.
The sea beckoned once again and we continued on toward the east and north. Behind us clouds seemed to funnel down, engulfing Land’s End and curling around the peaks and valleys of the Sierra de la Laguna. Try as they might, they could not squeeze sufficient moisture forth to dampen the land, the curtains of rain evaporating before they reached the earth. Meanwhile, the sun was working its way toward the western horizon, its rays on a collision course with the precipitation. Another rainbow appeared, this time arching from starboard to port. Contained within its hemispherical arms were riches of another sort. Humpback whales were everywhere. The atomized moisture cast skyward with their exhalations fractured the light creating colorful “rain blows” within the rainbow. Competitive groups thrashed and splashed, the males puffing and strutting. Others near and far breached repeatedly. Who could tell from what we saw which one the female would prefer?
Darkness now hides the rainbow’s glow, but our dreams will hold the treasures gained and we shall search for more tomorrow.
When lightening flashes in a land that cries for rain and the prehistoric silhouette of a frigatebird is poured from the lip of the big dipper, one might ponder what this day might bring.
Sand dunes piled like snow upon the flank of Cabo Falso where a lonely lighthouse stands. Its beam blinked monotonously, illuminating our faces as we stared toward the east awaiting the rising sun. Flames crept from the sea setting the clouds on fire. With a flash of green, the golden orb appeared signaling that our day had begun.
There is always gold at the end of the rainbow, or at least a treasure of sorts. Friar’s Rocks, carved by the merging seas, appeared amber in the early morning light. Tall stacks were tickled by the spectral colors until the avian beings roosting there spread their long wings and soared skyward, riding the developing thermals ever higher. Where the surf lapped gently beneath the famous arch, somnolent sea lions barked good morning. Inside the protected harbor mobula rays tried to fly, their counter-shaded forms leaping high in a gracefully choreographed dance.
Cabo San Lucas buzzed with activity as we slipped through the sport fishing fleet and nestled into our berth. Snorkelers made a quick escape to the beaches east of town where the underwater world glittered with colorful jewel-like fish. Nature lovers too were drawn away to a verdant thorn-scrub preserve. Flowers screamed of springtime rains, their blossoms large and brilliant. Lesser goldfinches and Scott’s orioles modeled the season’s colors of yellow and black.
The sea beckoned once again and we continued on toward the east and north. Behind us clouds seemed to funnel down, engulfing Land’s End and curling around the peaks and valleys of the Sierra de la Laguna. Try as they might, they could not squeeze sufficient moisture forth to dampen the land, the curtains of rain evaporating before they reached the earth. Meanwhile, the sun was working its way toward the western horizon, its rays on a collision course with the precipitation. Another rainbow appeared, this time arching from starboard to port. Contained within its hemispherical arms were riches of another sort. Humpback whales were everywhere. The atomized moisture cast skyward with their exhalations fractured the light creating colorful “rain blows” within the rainbow. Competitive groups thrashed and splashed, the males puffing and strutting. Others near and far breached repeatedly. Who could tell from what we saw which one the female would prefer?
Darkness now hides the rainbow’s glow, but our dreams will hold the treasures gained and we shall search for more tomorrow.
