For those of you who are regular readers of these postings,
you will be familiar with my occasional “Beach Blogs” in the past, and you may
perhaps have noticed that there has not been one so far this Season – until
now.
As my “work” preoccupation has grown, with the steady
increase in business, there has been a tendency to get into different routines
and get away from some of the quieter pastimes that occupied me in past years
when life here was simpler and with fewer distractions. But a combination of circumstances, not least
of which is the fact that this past weekend Baja Sur finally “sprang forward”
into Daylight Saving Time, over a month later than the rest of North America,
meaning that the sun is now rising an hour later than last week, caused me to
decide one morning this week that it was time again to hit the Beach.
As I left my Home about 6:45 the eastern sky was beginning
to brighten and I could see that it was going to be a partly cloudy morning,
not perhaps as conducive to classic sunrise images as a clear morning, but,
then again, one of the benefits of living here most of the year is that an
“ordinary” day is OK too – not every moment has to be a classic event, there
can be another one any time I choose.
And so I made my way the short walk down to the Beach.
As is often the case early in the morning, the water was
almost perfectly calm, reflecting the clouds as they became tinged with
sunlight and the horizon over Isla Carmen in the distance gradually brightened
with the approaching sunrise. As
I slowly walked along the Beach, heading south towards the Hotel, I met my
first companions of the morning, a man walking two dogs off leash and we
exchanged a greeting as we passed.
However much we humans enjoy a walk on the Beach, I am sure this is the
highlight of the day for the thriving dog population of Loreto Bay - a chance for
them to be free and explore the sights and smells and run at the water’s edge.
Before long three people arrived on the Beach carrying
paddle 
After watching the paddle boarders make their way offshore I
was struck by how incongruous they appeared in the growing distance –
apparently standing upright on top of the water, making their graceful way
across the calm surface, while the boards that support them become harder to
see as they move further away. As I
continued further along, ahead of me I saw another couple launching their
kayaks and paddling out into the brightening water, as the morning solitude was
gradually replaced as I was joined by other early risers who were enjoying more
active pleasures this morning.
By now the sun was breaking above the craggy peaks of Carmen
in the distance, but this day’s version of sunrise was accented by the clouds
hanging over the horizon, filtering the strengthening sunlight. As I contemplated this peaceful scene I realized
how quiet it was, with just the steady lapping rhythm of the water and hardly a
breath of breeze to ripple the water’s surface.
Without wanting to sound too spiritual about it, but the feeling on the
Beach this morning was similar to how I have felt walking into some churches in
the past – a calm stillness that creates a hushed atmosphere where one’s senses
are heightened.
I noticed these feelings as I met more fellow travelers
further down the Beach, as a mother, daughter and dog and we exchanged a
quietly relaxed greeting, not wanting to disturb each other’s peaceful moment,
while still acknowledging a friendly presence.
Further along, now in front of the Hotel Beach, a security person was
checking the Beach Palapas and their lounge chairs, a few with remnants of the
activities of the day, or night, before – a couple of beach towels on the
chairs, with the odd drink can nestled in the sand nearby.
An early morning delegation of nearly identical seagulls
moved rather aimlessly along the beach edge, trying their best to ignore my
approach, while keeping a safe distance until they either take to the water or
the air, either option more graceful than their flat-webbed shuffle on the
sand. There were a few pelicans cruising
motionlessly a couple of hundred feet above, apparently waiting for the
breakfast bell to sound when schools of small fish would arrive in the shallow
water and the daily feeding ritual would begin again.
As I reached the end of the Beach at Punta Nopolo, the rocky
outcrop that marks the end of Loreto Bay, I could see the silvery spray of the
irrigation sweeping over the emerald green of the golf course with the now
strengthening sun climbing higher above the clouds on the horizon. Turning, I slowly made my way back along the
Beach towards my home again, taking in the curving shoreline now trimmed with
the multi-colored Villas, bright again in the morning sun, with the majestic
Sierra de la Giganta Mountains in the background, seeming closer than usual in
the clear morning air. 
As I retraced my steps, I was lapped by a solitary jogger
pacing 
Finally, fittingly, I met another couple of friends whose
first return visit to the Home they had 
