The Salton Sea

Last Saturday I sat on the beach on the north shore of the Salton Sea, pondering the Sea’s role as a waypoint on one of the great North American bird migratory paths: The Pacific Flyway. A resting, refueling, and nesting spot for birds flying from Alaska down to Mexico and beyond to Latin America, the Salton Sea, created by diverted Colorado River flood waters bursting through levees in 1905 through 1907, now evokes a sense of flawed, desolate beauty. A couple of hundred yards from the shore, gazing at the Sea from the patio of my Uncle Bill and Aunt Jan’s house, the vista is indeed gorgeous; yet as you walk down to the beach, and get closer to the water, you become aware of jarring blemishes: the lone, milky white dead fish; the scummy grayish foam at the water’s edge; a fleeting, fetid odor. Traipsing across the sand and crushed barnacle beach, these are the things that I notice. But I’m an infrequent visitor, an interloper.

Bill and Jan, and their friends who live in the small community of Mecca on the north shore of the Sea, see things differently. They see a land devoid of fences, with homes on sprawling lots, a nexus of individuality commingled with community and fellowship. “You put up a fence,” says Jan, “and I’m outtahere.”

The next day, enjoying brunch with Kim and Barb and a few new acquaintances at Pat’s house on Easter Sunday, I sat on a beachfront patio in Newport Beach, sipped a Bloody Mary, gazed out at the Pacific Ocean, and tried to contrast the scene with my Salton Sea experience. Just then, I overheard a snippet of conversation behind me, something to do with “migratory birds”. I turned and watched the people talking, thinking now that is quite the coincidence. It turns out that this particular woman discussing birds is an ecologist and former Cal State Long Beach instructor, and was regaling about her recent work tracking migratory birds on their way from the Panama region up to the SoCal climes. Fascinating stuff. Had a very nice conversation, and to kick up the coincidence factor, her and her companion Joe live within walking distance of our house. I’m sure we’ll hook up again.

Thus ends the tale of a great weekend.