Monday, December 2, 1985

Baja Journal, Land's End, Cabo San Lucas, 12/4/1985


Approaching Land's End. We rounded the cape where large granite mountains, the last spine of the Sierras, fall off into the Sea of Cortez, it took my breath away. We were greeted by the Pacific where the mountain, sea and ocean meet one final time. So sublime, one could almost touch the intangible. It truly was a holy place. It was like the gates of heaven, or the garden of the Hesperides, in evening light.

The Greek stories came alive, it was as if we were between Scylla and Charybdis, the devil and the deep blue sea, but this wasn't the right continent, nor the right ocean. The mainland of Mexico across the sea of Cortez, more than 100 miles and the mainland wasn't even visible. No place for Jason to set sail.

If one were an ocean voyager, the end of this peninsula would seem like an island. The Spaniards named the island Califia, after a warrior goddess. I gazed into the water from the side of the boat, though we were in shadows, and  was dusk, the sea seemed lit from underneath and the intensity of blue of blueness was electric.

At the top of the cliff, frigatebirds wheeled and nested. Slim cantilevered wings and scissored-tails silhouetted against the appled sky. With a wingspan of 8 feet, they were like that out of the albatross that circled with them, but the albatross with light undersides had less articulate sculpturing of wings, but were no less impressive.

One male frigatebird nesting on the top of the cliff had his red pouch inflated, and that splash of red against the ochre-stained granite cliff, was a minute flash of color. There was continual motion in the sky as the birds wheeled and cried cried, the pelicans, once considered enormous to my way of thinking, seems suddenly so small by comparison.

12/2/1985? 
Cabo San Lucas, Baja

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