Green Flash

Not only is the west coast different than the east coast in a general sense, but the coast on the west is literally different than the coast on the east.

This may seem perfectly evident to all of you, but what I am about to share are concepts I hadn't really contemplated before moving out here. Brace yourselves. Here are two of my more unilluminating revelations:

1. The ocean is on the OTHER side.
(This I "discovered" while walking Mishka along the shore at the Coronado Dog Beach.) When you're walking along the beach and the ocean is to your right, chances are you're heading south if you're in San Diego but you're likely to be strolling north if you're in Wrightsville. Amazing!

2. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
This truth (which I have known for some time) has some unforeseen implications - consider this: if you want to catch an amazing sunset on the beach, head to the left coast, but if you're looking for an awe-inspiring ocean sunrise, go right. Truly incredible.

For some bizarre reason, these notions hadn't really crossed my mind before we became Californians, and they don't cease to delight me when I think of them now.

I was reminded of Revelation #2 on Sunday as I watched the sunset in PB with Jess, who was rescuing me from our renovation. Jess, as you can probably tell from my prior entries, is the kind of person who grabs life by the horns and lives it fully. She sees lots of sunsets but never loses her sense of wonder. Geoff and I have seen only a handful since we moved out here. We've been so busy.

Jess and I walked out to the end of the long pier and watched the big yellow sun turn red as it sunk towards the water. I snapped a bunch of photos on her camera because the golden light was making a really spectacular pattern on the deep teal of the ocean waves. Then we watched it melt into the horizon, half expecting to see a massive steam cloud rise up from where the ocean had swallowed up the sun. Instead, we saw something far more miraculous.

It was unmistakable.

There it was in the split moment after the sun had dipped below the horizon. Had you blinked, you would have missed the bright pulse of lime green light above the water. But no one blinked. Every person on that pier saw it and instantly burst into applause. And we weren't just politely showing our approval and admiration. No, this applause percolated up and out of us, an unconscious and exuberant expression of our collective gratitude toward Nature herself. With that bright pulse, we were glad to be alive. How could we not? We had witnessed the green flash!