Point Loma Surfer Girl

Falling from the Sky

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 15:51:00 +0000

I woke up this morning and read the news: two planes collided over Corona airport yesterday and the debris fell into a car dealership. Five people died. This occurred at 3:35 pm Sunday about ½ an hour after we passed overhead. At El Monte while eating lunch on the patio we saw an emergency vehicle race towards the runway. Looking over the fence, we saw an experimental plane tipped on one wing. Three fire trucks eventually showed up, paramedics, and the police. It took about 45 minutes to clean up the runway of gas and clear it so that we could return home. The pilot of that plane was low-time and he had porpoised on the runway (a really bad landing).

On the way home we observed planes chasing each other over Lake Mathews, jumpers near Elsinore, and had close encounters with two Lear jets.

Our Cessna had a traffic avoidance display and 3 times we observed a yellow light and heard the soft yet firm voice calling "traffic". I love to fly but it is dangerous.

Nashville

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Mon, 07 Jan 2008 01:58:00 +0000

Nashville, Tennessee: the people are friendly; they look you in the eyes when they greet you. In a traffic delay near Vanderbilt University (the basketball game had just ended) my cab was stalled for 10 minutes alongside a delivery car that read "freakin' fast delivery".

It was unusually cold there when I arrived, about 22 degrees at the height of day. I was disoriented in my directions. Looking west, I thought it was east. With no sun to guide me, I got lost while roaming the west end of Nashville near Vanderbilt University.

Saturday night I went out with the scientists to a trendy blues bar in downtown. The band had to compete with the TV because the Steelers were playing Jacksonville in the play-offs (and it was a very close game.) Downtown Nashville is crowned by the AT&T building whose spires appear to be Morse code connectors. It's a music and party town.

I shot these photos while walking through the west end of Nashville. The upper photo is on the Vanderbilt campus.

New Year's hike

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 18:09:00 +0000

During the holiday break I took several hikes. The first one was around the tip of Point Loma on one of the lowest tides of the year (12/22). I was the only person out there. Hanging from the cliffs was a stranded fishing boat. As I rounded the point, the cold winds died. In the distance I could see the skyline of downtown. To the south, Mexico and its islands spread out before me. It was magical; it was mine. I did some yoga and meditated and then picked my way back across the tide rocks to the parking lot. A ranger stopped me and told me that this area had been closed to the public since the early 90s.

The second hike I took, pictured above, was to Hollenbeck Canyon out the 94 towards Deerhorn Valley. I drove through Deerhorn Valley first and was amazed at the twisted and burnt landscape. Hollenbeck Canyon had burnt but mostly on the north side as I walked east. The south side where the creek runs was unscathed.

Above from top to bottom: Hollenbeck Canyon tree, charred earth, and a view of Lyons Peak from the trail that rises above Hollenbeck Canyon.

Walking back at dusk I was amazed at the silence. Where were the insects? Where were the small animals? The cougars had survived, I read, were they seeking a meal? I hurried my steps.

An Avian Solstice

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 18:22:00 +0000

December 22, the winter solstice, is our shortest day. We hold our breaths to see if the sun will come back on the following day. In southern California it's a given. We have had high pressure days with clear, clear skies. From Cabrillo National Monument I can see all the way south into Mexico. I can see the San Bernardino mountains (lightly capped with snow) to the northeast and, driving up the coast to Orange County yesterday, Catalina Island was clearly visible from Oceanside.

The solstice coincided with a full moon (and Mars is as close to Earth as I'll ever see it in this incarnation). The birds took advantage of the low tide. I caught these three photos in Point Loma of an ordinary seagull, a snowy white egret, and a great blue heron.

The Start of Winter

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sat, 03 Nov 2007 21:10:00 +0000

No, it's not fire; it's sunrise on a cloudy day-- looking south from Trumball Street in Point Loma.

October has been a weird month. A week after the fires it grew cold, very cold. It's cold this weekend; a Santa Ana event was predicted but I don't see much evidence outside.

This morning a woman stopped me as I was carrying my yoga mat and chair down to Sunset Cliffs for my meditation. She too meditates there every morning and she is always happy to see me because her meditations are more powerful when I am there with her. That was a nice thing to hear.

There was a brouhaha at my condo complex and, being on the board, I was privy to the complainant's letter. She was upset because her dog was leashed and the other was not, so why was she being fined? The other dog owner falsely accused her of having an unleashed dog, too.

She responded [sic] Oh, Cointreau! My dog was on a leash.

Thinking of that made me smile throughout the day.

Calm at Sunset

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 15:47:00 +0000

Wildfires have burned the entire back country I used to fly over, including the training area for Gillespie; the route up the Julian VOR to the desert, the route north to French Valley, and south along the border outside of Class B airspace. The Santiago Peak area of Orange County has also burned. Silverado Canyon is one of the most beautiful areas on Southern California. What will it look like now?

On TV there are horror movies for Halloween and the documentaries aren't much better. On CNN there is the "planet in peril" series and on the History Channel they were doing a special about colliding galaxies. Somewhere in the future the Andromeda galaxy is slated to collide with the Milky Way, of which we are an infinitesimal part.

No wonder I feel anxiety. Time to go down to the beach and watch the sun set, or if cloudy, watch the sunset change the sky.

Aprés the Fire

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 18:43:00 +0000

Today I woke up to the smell of moisture in the air. It is drizzling on the coast. The air is clear and I drove up to Cabrillo National Monument to do some sun salutations (or perhaps I should say cloud salutations). Looking southeast I could see San Miguel Peak (left) and Lyons Peak is peeking out from behind it. A plume of smoke from the Harris Fire rises behind them.

Doing yoga outside in the misty air I finally relaxed some of the tension I've been feeling all week. If I think the world is threatening, then it becomes so. Right view is the first step.

Orange in October

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Tue, 23 Oct 2007 16:28:00 +0000

October is definitely an orange month. In the past few days the fires have turned our skies pumpkin day in and day out. On Sunday as I watched the surfers on the best waves of this Fall, I noticed smoke drifting out over the ocean. The skies slowly darkened to the north and the south but the sky directly over Point Loma has remained clear. If you look at the satellite photos you can see that the winds have kept the smoke at a distance. We are an oasis, unlike 2003, when we took the brunt of the foul air.

Previous to this weekend, we were Orange in October only as day turned to night. On October 13, I was down at Sunset Cliffs for another sunset when a group of people dressed in black showed up. Was it a funeral or a wedding? It turned out to be the latter. Only two people were not dressed in black: the bride and the fairy girl in pink taking pictures. I alternated watching the sunset and watching the people. The ringbearer was serious about his charge keeping his eyes focused on the ring for the entire ceremony; he was too short to participate in most of the activities taking place a foot above him.

October Weirdness

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Mon, 08 Oct 2007 02:04:00 +0000

A patio restaurant in La Jolla Shores has gone all out for "Dia de los muertos." The entire exterior of the restaurant and all available space is covered with skeletons. Friday night, as I watched the sun set, I saw a young man flow through asanas with amazing grace and agility. His shirt was as orange as the setting sun.

Summer Rain

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 19:55:00 +0000

Summer ended a few days early this year. A fierce wind came up on Friday afternoon. I caught these sea gulls huddling against the wind. On Saturday morning, I shot downtown San Diego cleansed by the first rainfall in months. Fall has arrived and the ocean water temperature has dropped about 10 degrees and there is a chill in the air.

Paddle for Clean Water

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Mon, 17 Sep 2007 14:20:00 +0000

Surfer chic in OB. The guy on the left is wearing a wetsuit under his sport coat.

The line-up for the paddle.

Kids everywhere have fun at the beach.

Yesterday was the 16th Annual Paddle for Clean Water sponsored by the Surfrider Foundation. It was sunny early on and then the fog rolled in. I couldn't even see halfway down the pier.

Later I went to Gillespie. John and I flew up to El Monte, California in the LA Basin. North up through the pass that separates Riverside from San Diego County. We flew along the eastern side of the Santa Ana Mountains. There is much development going on around Lake Elsinore. We flew into the LA Basin and roughly followed I10 to the 605 where we turned downwind for El Monte. We were right up against Mt. Wilson. There was a fire in Big Bear and the smoke streamed across the basin. But other than that smoke, the air was fairly clear.

I flew home.

The Glass Cockpit

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sun, 09 Sep 2007 18:33:00 +0000

Yesterday we flew to Torrance in a new Cessna 180 with a Garmin 1000 cockpit. The photos are 1) the display of the 2 Tango Alpha; 2) the Huntington Beach Pier; and 3) short final into Torrance.

The display gives you all the information you need; you never have to look out the window. The Garmin 1000 cockpit has a traffic collision avoidance system installed that keeps the pilot apprised of "targets" within a 12-mile radius of the plane and shows their altitude in relation to ours. You can dial out to a 50 mile radius and check for weather activity. We saw an active thunderstorm cell east of the Salton Sea while returning to San Diego.

The auto-pilot is very smart. You dial up the altitude you want to reach (5500 feet) and then you indicate your rate of climb (500 feet per minute). You push arm and the plane flies you gently up to that altitude. All you need to do is monitor airspeed and engine performance.

When you hit altitude you can lean the engine by watching the cylinders and dialing down to the desired burn rate for gas (in this plane about 8 gallons per hour). At your assigned altitude you push a button called heading and the auto-pilot locks into your heading and levels the plane and navigates for you. You fold your arms and take pictures out the window.

The Garmin 1000 will also bring you in for landing using GPS or localizer approaches. John hadn't quite figured that out so he couldn't show me.

After flying that plane, would I ever go back to ded reckoning and rudder-stick flying? There is the price of course; this new plane costs $140/hour.

UDONOME: A Japanese Noodle story

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 03:35:00 +0000

Hey! You don’t know me, quit touching my foot! The man in front of me, about my age but far less flexible, struggles to right himself according to the yoga instructor’s gentle and flowing instructions.

“Legs straight, quadriceps pulled up towards the core. Hand resting lightly on your calf while the other hand reaches for the sky. This is triangle pose. Open your chest! Breathe! Yoga is a union of effort and relaxation. Slip into the nectar of the pose.”

The man in front of me is not an inappropriate yoga guy and I am not a fit young thing in perfectly coordinated yoga wear. But I can hold a pose and I can balance on one foot for several minutes. It’s amazing how strong I have become with yoga.

Last night I caught a snippet of local news on TV. I caught the tail end of the anchorman’s spiel “shark attack today” as the screen-line read La Jolla Shores.

I watched TV until the news came back on and then found out that the attack was nowhere near San Diego but in northern Monterey Bay.

Today, before yoga, I went surfing north of La Jolla Shores. I constantly scanned the ocean bottom through the clear water. What if a shark did attack me? What would I do? If I saw it coming towards me (a highly unlikely scenario according to the experts) I would shout, “You don’t know me! Why are you doing this?” as the hungry predator dragged me towards my watery grave. I fervently prayed to Poseidon to send me a wave for distraction.

I drip sweat onto the mat and smell the day’s toil collected in the hollows of my armpits.

Today at work, I received a job offer, a promotion to be the project manager for a new research program to study the temporal dynamics of learning. I told my current employers about it. They offered me more pay with half the workload if I remained in my current position. “You don’t know me,” I wanted to interject but wisely shut my mouth and let the two academic powerhouses up the ante as they continued to fight over me.

There are cognitive studies that claim emotions strongly bias our decision-making much more so than rational thought. They are wrong. They don’t know me. Last night my Dharma teacher said, “Timing is everything,” using the exact words I used in the interview to express my interest in the new center. I know what I’m going to do.

“Be in the moment” the yoga instructor gently admonishes. I focus on my breathing and my trembling right leg.

The Rodeo

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sat, 21 Jul 2007 19:04:00 +0000

The rodeo is part of our Spanish past in the Southwest. During the annual round-up, the cowboys (or vaqueros as they were known then) would gather together and show off their horsemanship and bravery. Rodeo comes from rodear (surround).

On the Fourth of July we went to a Rodeo in Oakley, Utah. This is the heartland of America. Many of the young married women were pregnant and toting along several tots. The children were dressed in their cowboy best. There was no alcohol allowed. The rodeo clown made several stupid and racist jokes.

Still Surfing

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Thu, 19 Jul 2007 20:30:00 +0000

In May as I walked along the OB Bluffs, I spotted hundreds of tuna crabs (pink miniature lobsters that look like tampon applicators) floating in the surf. El Niño! The water would be warm early this year and the waves would be better than average. How could I give up surfing?

The next day after work I drove to a small surf shop I had noticed in my neighborhood. It stood out because the owner had painted a mural of a breaking wave on the entire east wall. The shop featured row upon row of surfboards of all shapes, sizes and colors. A young and smiling blonde man was behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” he asked politely looking me over. He was puzzled that I was in his shop; I could see it in his eyes.

“I want to buy a surfboard,” I said.

“Really? That’s cool. I read the other day that women, especially older women, are going into surfing in a big way. Did you read it too? Is that why you’re here?” he asked.

“I can surf,” I replied thrusting out my chin and narrowing my eyes. “I’ve surfed for 20 years.”

“You go girl! I’m Jason. So what kind of board do you need? We have two kinds of boards – long and short boards. Long boards are heavy to carry but they are easy to catch waves with and to paddle. Short boards are generally for advanced surfers. We also have what’s called a fun board, a sort of hybrid between the two. It’s what I usually recommend to people new to surfing. But you probably know all that, right?" Jason amended as my assertion that I was a surfer finally sunk into his salt-addled skull.

“I ride a short board but I don’t surf as much as I used to so I’m a little slow paddling and I’ve gained weight in the last couple of years, so I’m looking for something a bit easier to paddle.”

“What’s your board’s dimensions?” He asked.

“It’s a 6’3” thruster and potato-chip thin.”

“Tight! I have one of those myself. So you want to go longer because you’re getting fat. Would you like to try longboarding now like all those gray-haired dudes out at Sunset Cliffs?

“Actually, I thought I’d just get a longer short board and maybe one that’s slightly thicker for flotation. This one looks pretty cool,” I said as I pulled out a white board that looked just like the one I had at home except for the addition of 9 inches of length and an extra 2 inches of width.

“That’s a good board,” Jason exclaimed. “I shaped it myself but you really have to know how to surf to ride that one.”

“I told you I can surf.”

Truthfully I hadn’t surfed in 8 months and had seriously contemplated giving it up over the past winter. I was nearing 50, and had gained 30 pounds in the past 3 years. I was too slow and heavy for my potato-chip stick. I had a chronic shoulder ache when I paddled for more than 30 minutes and it was hard to crane my stiffening neck backwards while I paddled to catch the breaking wave.

Jason gave me a great deal on that surfboard. He threw in the fins, a year-old Surfer Magazine, and some surfboard wax.

I drove home and put on my bathing suit, a pair of men’s surfing trunks, and a rash guard. I grabbed my wetsuit from the closet and headed down to the beach. Parked in the lot at Dog Beach, I struggled into my wetsuit. I had to tug viciously to pull the suit up over my ass and suck in my stomach while I yanked the zipper up. Zipped I was Gumby in black neoprene. How would I ever paddle my surfboard? I could barely move my arms! I rolled the wetsuit down to my ankles and kicked it off. I would brave the cold water. I bent down and applied the wax to my brand new surfboard.

If I had the cojones, they would have shriveled as I waded out into the cold ocean. But fortunately I had ovaries instead, malfunctioning ovaries that went into overdrive and lit me up like a furnace. Who needs a wetsuit when you have hot flashes?

I caught my first wave easily because of those 9 inches of additional foam. When I stood up the board tilted backwards, I lost my balance and, arms windmilling, I fell backwards into the water. On the second wave I paddled furiously and caught the wave as it was pitching out into the air. My board slid off the wave and I looked straight down into the trough while the lip of the wave harried my back. I hit the water limbs akimbo, the board slapped my butt, and I was ground rudely into the sandy bottom. I surfaced coughing up saltwater. The third wave I caught, I managed to make it to my knees and ride shoreward. As the wave dissipated in the shallow water, I collapsed onto my board, panting, with my arms dragging along the bottom like stone weights.

The problem, I realized, was that 10 of those extra 30 pounds had gone directly to my breasts. I was listing like the Titanic when I paddled. My center of gravity was too far forward.

On the last wave of the day, a smart bit of advice surfaced in my waterlogged brain. Look where you want to go. Paddling to catch the wave, instead of looking straight ahead, I looked farther down the wave to where I longed to be. I stood up and I was there! I rode that wave smoothly to shore.

As the summer wore on, I lost some of that weight, my muscles grew stronger, and I recovered my surfing mojo.

Surfing is more than catching waves. I like to paddle out into the warm and salty ocean after work to sit on my board and watch the pelicans soar overhead. I bob gently in the water with my legs dangling off the rails and my hands pressed into the board for balance. I scan the horizon for waves. If there are no waves, then I might scan the ocean bottom for sting rays or sharks. I play a game with myself. Would I rather lose my arms or legs if attacked? I then alternate balancing myself on the board with arms or legs up. Occasionally I fall off the board into the water. I pray for a wave to distract me from this game.

One night I listened to one young man instruct his friend in the Zen of surfing. “You must be dedicated; you must devote every waking second to surfing. You must concentrate and then you will learn how to surf, and one day you, the board, and the wave will be one gliding across the surface of the ocean. If you are not dedicated, if you do not concentrate, then you will NOT catch that wave. Also, you have to get beat up to surf. If you are not willing to get beaten up, then you will never really surf. On the next wave, give it everything, don’t hold back, you’re gonna get hurt and you’re gonna get right out there and try again.”

Yesterday Hurricane Hernán off Baja generated the best south swell of summer. It hit San Diego beaches exactly as predicted by the weathermen. I was ready for it, ready to take a beating.

(this was written in the summer of 2002)

Morning meditation

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Fri, 18 May 2007 18:44:00 +0000

This morning I clambered down to Cheesegrater Rock and entered the cave. I slid down the cave into the shallow and cold water and tip-toed across the tidepool over to the flat rock that is usually submerged. It was an extremely low tide and I was completely surrounded by saltwater. I placed my mat on the rock and did some sun salutations to warm up. I practiced breath of fire and qi gong. I sat.

The motion of the water through the tide pools and the gentle swaying of the sea grasses back and forth inspired me to sway gently in rhythm. The rhythm took over and I became a pendulum, rocking back and forth in harmony with the sea.

I live for these moments.

Monterey/Carmel

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Fri, 27 Apr 2007 03:05:00 +0000

On Bird Island, these two unusual birds were nesting. I wonder what they are called?

China Beach in Pt. Lobos is closed to the public right now. There were more than 10 seals frolicking in the shallow water.

At the Pt. Lobos Reserve just south of Carmel, I caught this wave breaking.

Walking through the streets of Monterey I spotted an open warehouse. I looked inside. I wonder what this person does. I think I'd like to know her/him.

I enjoyed Monterey - the crisp air, the sunshine, and the healthy sea. Flying out of San Francisco and looking down on the ocean I could spot pods of whales, dolphins, and other large fish swimming in the clear waters. Flying over southern California, I saw mostly seaweed and birds.

Downtown, San Diego Comes of Age

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sun, 15 Apr 2007 05:16:00 +0000

We went downtown tonight. San Diego has come of age I realize in this trendy see-and-be-seen Photographic Exhibit at the Lyceum Theatre. They serve wine, Kendall-Jackson instead of two-buck-chuck, and tiny appetizers that never make it 5 steps farther than the ad-hoc kitchen doors. I bring my camera and shoot my first night-time society event. My camera is 1/10th the size of the professionals and my hand is unsteady but I am learning to look at people in the same way I look at landscapes.

The Week in Review

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sat, 14 Apr 2007 21:57:00 +0000

The week started badly. I was stressed out and bitchy. I couldn't sleep. I had a dream about my mother and woke up with a profound sadness within. I went down to the beach (there's not a lot that saltwater can't cure) on Tuesday afternoon. (1) The waves were huge. (2) Surfers were lined up to go out. I saw a surfer catch a left off Luscombe's and ride it all the way to inside Indicators and then hop-skip his board to connect with Needles. I've never seen anyone ride through those 3 reefs. My mood lightened as I contemplated the probability of miracles.

On Friday I called a gym friend, Tom, who has been in the hospital since his knee replacement surgery of more than 2 months ago. There were complications. Grave complications.

Tom's voice slurs as he confides to me that his doctor is pressuring him to hurry up and make a decision: he can continue as he is and hope that the injured leg and foot will heal (even though he cannot feel that foot, or move his toes or ankle); he can cut off the damaged leg below the knee (the preferred option for future mobility but complicated by the knee surgery and festering wounds that currently surround the knee); or he can most extremely cut the leg off above the knee - the quickest-to-heal option but more permanently crippling than the others.

Tom asks me, "How can I make this decision while doped up on morphine?"

Monday, I'll go see him and see if I can help in any way.

Today I wake up to the sunshine streaming in my window. I hop out of bed and go down to the beach. I surf OB pier and hang around for a bit to watch the beach scene develop. Summer is a'coming (3) and the Capoeira club is practicing on the beachfront grass (4).

Signs

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Wed, 11 Apr 2007 03:50:00 +0000

On Saturday, the day between Good Friday (when Jesus was crucified) and Easter (when he rose from the dead), a dark cloud threatened the sun from dawn to dusk. A dark cloud lurked in the background of my mind. I was raised Lutheran but I admit that the notion of original sin and a belief that an enlightened being such as Jesus had to die to redeem us all from that original sin does not resonate in my soul.

Soul Window

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Tue, 03 Apr 2007 00:38:00 +0000

Who is that person in the window with the bright sun-shiny head? Self-portrait, this window into my soul reveals my white shoes.

Old man Cliff

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sun, 18 Mar 2007 01:23:00 +0000

Old man misses an eye.

Socket dull so he cracks a frown.

Old man made of stone.

Foggy Day Haiku

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sun, 18 Mar 2007 01:19:00 +0000

Spring sky hugs the Earth.
Fog clings in wet silence as the
dew hangs from the pine.

Tidal Haiku II

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sat, 17 Mar 2007 01:40:00 +0000

Tile, two stones, and sand.
Left by the tide they write songs
for a Summer’s eve.

Spring Eclipse

noreply@blogger.com (Shelley Neilsdottir) — Sun, 04 Mar 2007 04:36:00 +0000

There was a lunar eclipse this evening. It happened 40 minutes before the moon rose in California. I watched the moon appear over the mountains from Trumball Street above Shelter Island.

Earlier that day I went down to Sunset Cliffs and caught a photographer waiting for a shot and a couple launch their kite. The recent rains have turned the fields green and I saw my first wild mustard in a fenced off lot on Voltaire.