Why Did He Go?


I remain as amazed by this question as this little toddler.

There is this wonder of birds, and children.

You want them to stay with you, but if they did, it wouldn’t be the same.

We are home now in sunny Southern California.

I still have more of Iceland to share,

but thought you might want a break from fire and ice,

to soak up a bit of sun and surf.

We still, desperately need rain, but like the song says, ‘you can’t always get what you want.’

Cheers to you from home sweet home~

202 thoughts on “Why Did He Go?

  1. Very cute, Cindy! I would love to give California some of our Illinois rain – it’s so dreary and damp here, we could use some of your sunshine in return!

    • I honestly get quite frustrated whilst traveling year after year, and seeing places inundated by rain which we so desperately need. It is true that you don’t always get what you want, but it isn’t always true that if you try, you get what you need.

      • I forgot to mention my mother and aunt, were born and grew up in Chicago, and my mother went to the U of C, before they both were uprooted ‘immigrants’ to California.

    • No. I would love to live in that historic old adobe in this amazing place that is regularly visited by mountain lions. These photos were taken in Torrey Pines State Park, where thankfully no one is allowed to live. The Torrey Pines trees are unique and threatened and need our protection, as does the entire habitat.

  2. What a lovely sequence showing the innocence of young children who cannot believe that not everyone(thing) would want to interact with them.

  3. Beautiful– the child, bird, sea, sun, clouds. It’s hot and humid here, so these photographs provide a refreshing imagined vacation. It comes at a good time spiritually too. Nice!

  4. Namaste Cindy ๐Ÿ™‚

    Wonderful photographs, a stunning location: the sunshine and blue sky is the stuff of dreams, holidays and the imagination ๐Ÿ™‚

    Moved by the little boy’s plight I leave a line or two.

    ~ The Toddling Twitcher ~
    ~
    Waddling the coastline of Costa Del Mar,
    A paradise where toddlers go,
    A wobbling ornithologist puttering-by,
    Called-out to a friend, “hello!”
    ~
    With curiosity upon his features,
    And sand between his toes,
    He took delight in a creature of flight:
    A genus he didn’t know.
    ~
    Nor had seen before in all his yore,
    But he thought it a species of gull.
    Never one to ponder continued to wander,
    Certain all would be well.
    ~
    Within six feet or maybe more,
    His friend implored him, “stay!”
    “A test to test before with zest,”
    “You startle me away!”
    ~
    “Will you play a game with me?”
    “The riddle of what I am,” said he.
    “Three chances have thee to guess my breed.”
    “Guess incorrectly, why then I leave.”
    ~
    “Play!” Said the toddler doddering along,
    “Gannet!” He enthused his voice a song.
    “Wrong,” sung the bird, “try again.”
    “A different bird not one the same.”
    ~
    “Kittiwake, guillemot, petrel, boobie?”
    “Wrong!” Shouted the bird rather rudely.
    “Razorbill, dovekie, frigatebird, noddie?”
    “Fool!” yelled the bird rather obtusely.
    ~
    “Jaeger, skuas, shearwater, petrel?”
    “Why next you’ll call me a seafaring kestrel!”
    “Cormorants, auklet, murrelet, skimmer?”
    “No,” smirked the bird, “not even a glimmer”
    ~
    When with one last attempt he boldly tried,
    “Seagull!” He yelled triumphantly cried.
    “Why yes!” Declared the riddling bird,
    “I’m an ocean-going sort of fly-guy:”
    ~
    “Cliff-hugging surf-loving,”
    “Beak-flashing red as I fly!”
    “Sand-strolling wind-rolling,”
    “Super cool superfly-guy!”
    ~
    “They call me One-Stop Never Drop,”
    “Scourge of the Del Mar High seas!”
    “My targets never see me coming,”
    “Or stealing whatever I please!”
    ~
    The toddler shrieked his day complete,
    Picked up his feet started running.
    When then in sync an argument heats,
    Raised voices started gunning!
    ~
    Seagull turned to gaze at what was heard,
    And there spied a seagull’s feast.
    Who could ignore what dropped to the floor
    Neither man, nor bird, nor beast!”
    ~
    As quick as a flash Seagull dashed,
    Disappeared leaving dust in his wake:
    Racing went pacing to secure said stash,
    Clearly hungry and on the make.
    ~
    Left to shuffle along Del Mar bay,
    Twitcher watched his gull fly-away
    Who richer for his encounter mused,
    “Why do I feel so confused?”
    ~
    He’d named the bird he’d got it right,
    But yet his friend had taken flight?
    Suddenly alone he felt rejected,
    Angry upset forlorn dejected.
    ~
    But when then a whisper wafting softly,
    Lifted his spirit higher.
    “Never-mind sweet child of mine,”
    “Would ice-cream ease your ire?”
    ~
    Shambling feet picked up their beat,
    “Yes please!” He said, “that’s neat!”
    “Sweet treat he shrieked, “beloved dream!”
    “You scream, I scream, we all scream for ice-scream!”
    ~*~

    Have a wonderful week ๐Ÿ™‚

    Namaste ๐Ÿ™‚

    DN

      • ๐Ÿ˜€ Thank you ๐Ÿ˜€ You know how I like to perch here for a while enjoying your photographs whilst dreams take me to the far-flung places you write of. I intended only to comment but was distracted as always but yet this time wondering why indeed the gull flew away and left the little fella on his lonesome. I’m not sure I arrived at any satisfactory conclusions ๐Ÿ™‚

        Thank you for enjoying my scribble. Have a pleasant evening,

        Take care. Namaste <3

        DN

        • I have to tell you two true stories about gulls.
          At the age of this toddler, a seagull swooped down on Easter Sunday, and stole my sonโ€™s toy wind-up Easter chick. Matt looked at me and said, โ€œDonโ€™t worry, heโ€™ll bring it back.โ€
          I explained to him that seagulls donโ€™t do this to try and prepare him for disappointment, but he was adamant. Hours later, as we were packing up to leave, the seagull swooped down low over us, and dropped the toy chick with the inner mechanics pecked out, but otherwise intact. My son ran and picked up the chick, and said, โ€œI told you heโ€™d bring it back.โ€
          There is an elegant hotel on the beach in the town where I grew up. For decades seagulls would swoop down and steal sterling silver napkin rings from outdoor dining tables. The hotel eventually hired a falconeer to visit regularly and terrify the gulls away. More years pass, and the hotel undergoes a renovation. The repair people entered the hotel’s unused bell tower, and what do you suppose they found? A mountain of sterling silver napkin rings.
          So this brings me back to your question. Why do gulls do what they do? I have no idea, but I know they are very wise birds.

          • Namaste Cindy ๐Ÿ™‚

            Wonderful stories thank you! The first a precious memory, the second a priceless legend, both are mysterious and intriguing. Indeed I’ve been sharing these tales with colleagues at work today who were as amazed as I by both stories. Several commented on your son’s calmness and sense of knowing. None of us could explain such a thing nor offer any attempt at all in explaining what followed. We couldn’t find one plausible explanation that adequately reasoned all the events that occurred in the order they did. It is indeed a mystery ๐Ÿ™‚

            Your delightful stories might suggest seagulls have a curious penchant for (shiny) metal objects. The chick was returned but not the mechanism whilst the mountain of silver napkin rings is obvious. Those thieving gulls would not be the first birds to have such a habit: Magpies are a well known for it. But you know, I can’t imagine it was just one gull collecting a mountain’s worth of napkin rings, it must have had help, or indeed a whole family of helpers. And if it did have help then why were the same silver items deposited in the exact same place: it sounds like a bird’s saving-bank ๐Ÿ˜‰ I get images of seagulls stealing napkin-rings and dropping them in the bell-tower whereupon they are found and returned to the tables only to be stolen again. And all whilst sea-gulls laugh at their mischief-making and at our expense ๐Ÿ™‚ Wise birds indeed.

            All of which still leaves the question, ‘why do sea-gulls do what they do?’ unanswered.

            Thank you for sharing anecdote and story.

            Namaste ๐Ÿ™‚

            DN

            • I just talked to my son and daughter about that seagull on Easter Sunday. They remember it very well. It is utterly inexplicable and wonderful isn’t it. We know so little about the mysteries of life. Be well my friend & thank you for such an thoughtful response.

  5. As always Cindy, it is a pleasure to visit the HOLLER or anywhere with you. As for Fire & Ice, I do love the thought and it is the title of my signature poem which I posted, albeit, years ago… xx

    • Thanks Nancy and I wish! This is a state park, and that is like a ranger station, an old adobe, that once was some lucky person’s house. Cheers to you my friend.

  6. Great captures, Cindy! I’ve seen the wonder of kids and birds also here on our beach! By now “my” two girls are quite seasoned bird watchers ๐Ÿ™‚

    • At the age of this toddler, a seagull swooped down on Easter Sunday, and stole my son’s toy wind-up Easter chick. Matt looked at me and said, “Don’t worry, he’ll bring it back.”
      I explained to him that seagulls don’t do this. Hours later, as we were packing up to leave, the seagull swooped down over us, and dropped the toy chick with the inner mechanics pecked out, but otherwise intact. My son ran and picked up the chick, and said, “I told you he’d bring it back.”

  7. Such wonderful captures of the toddler encountering beach birds. Love the expression on his face in the second photo. The shadow of the bird is so striking. <3

  8. Very wise. We want the bird to stay and the child to remain a toddler but oh what we would miss in the growing up and the changes.
    I know what you mean about rain. We finally got a little after 3 months dry. I think they said 111 days without rain. Could be a record for Portland but you are usually dry. I wish you rain. Welcome back home.

  9. The pure joy of a child discovering something new! Few things provide more moments than the ocean. I still remember my first visits as a youngster, just a wee bit north up around Watsonville working south to Morrow Bay. โ€“Curt

  10. Torrey Pines Lodge… I couldn’t possibly be more intrigued! The views of the CA coast always take my breath away. Lovely shots, Cindy. La Jolla (sighs) I visited there once upon a time. While the circumstance couldn’t have been more horrid, I was and still am struck by the beauty and charm of the place. (And silly me… I thought you were based in Oregon. I just can’t keep up with everyone.) Hummingbird hugs to you and everyone at the Holler.

    • I was born and raised in La Jolla, and we did closely consider moving to Oregon, so you are intuitively spot on, which is no surprise. La Jolla is way too congested and developed now, but it was extremely charming back in the day. Hugs back to you Teagan & cheers too~

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