Portrait of a Sea Turtle with fish, sea floor and a rocket launch. 541 Washington Ave, Cape Canaveral, FL 32920 Near Cheri Down Park, Brevard County, Florida
Along the bottom margin is the artist’s signature, “David Roth 2022.”
Beneath the brooding storm clouds moving with silent intent, I stood, the air electric with the storm’s approach. Yet, turning east, the Sun’s Eye winked at the horizon, igniting the sky in defiance—a fleeting warmth against the impending tempest’s chill.
Amidst the sprawling canvas of Cocoa Beach, a beachcomber such as I stands witness to the theater of the skies, a stage upon which the sun and storm perform their eternal dance. The dawn of this particular February morning brought with it a spectacle of dual realms, a chiaroscuro of the celestial drama that unfolds in minutes and lingers in the heart.
To the east, ‘the Sun’s Eye’—a fierce, glowing orb—peered over the horizon, its gaze cutting through the cool morning mist. The sea, a mirror of the skies, blushed with the hues of a blooming peach, its waves whispering secrets as they lapped the shore. Each frothy crest reflected the sun’s burgeoning fire, a symphony of light that sang of the world’s awakening. It was a moment of birth and beginning, the kindling of a day where the potential hung ripe as the citrus in the Floridian groves.
This radiance, however, was but a half of the morning’s tale. As I turned, facing west, the sky told a different story. Here, the heavens grew heavy with brooding storm clouds, a tumultuous sea of gray above the green. These undulating specters crept forward, a procession of ashen waves threatening to swallow the day’s young light. The air, charged with the tension of an impending tempest, hummed with the promise of nature’s fury.
Twenty-one minutes—a mere breath in the lifespan of the cosmos—was all it took for the scenery to shift, the mood to transform. To the east, the promise of warmth and the whisper of daylight’s caress; to the west, the cold omen of a storm’s embrace. This juxtaposition, this confrontation of fire and shadow, was a testament to the Earth’s ephemeral beauty.
In the presence of such a display, I—a mere beachcomber—was a sentinel between two worlds. The sunrise spoke to me of hope, of the unyielding rhythm of time that brings renewal each day. Its golden fingers painted the world in a palette of possibility, a reminder that each dawn brings its own story, its own song to be sung.
The approaching storm, in contrast, murmured of respect for the forces beyond our grasp, the humbling power that nature wields with indifferent grace. Its darkening clouds, layered like the furrowed brows of ancient gods, were a canvas of the world’s raw strength, its capacity for change, for washing the old away with a torrent.
Here, on this stretch of sand, the universe seemed to converge—a meeting point of opposing forces, a confluence of light and darkness, creation and destruction. In the face of such majesty, I found a profound tranquility, a sense of my place in the grand tapestry. For what are we but observers, participants in the grand design, bearing witness to the moments when the world reveals its contrasting character?
This morning’s display was a parable of life itself, written in the language of the skies. The Sun’s Eye, ever-watchful, ever-prescient, promised the comfort of the familiar, the steady passage of time marked by the constancy of its rise and fall. The storm, brooding and unpredictable, was a reminder of life’s uncertainty, the inevitability of change and the beauty found within it.
As the light grew and the darkness encroached, I stood at the crossroads of day and night, life and experience. With the sand beneath my feet and the salt air filling my lungs, I embraced the duality of existence, knowing well that each sunrise heralds not just the day, but the inescapable storm that follows. In Cocoa Beach, on the Space Coast, the universe had unfolded its dual nature before me, an eternal beachcomber, in the span of a single, breathtaking morning.
Discover a heartfelt story woven from the sands of Cocoa Beach on New Year’s Eve, where shells and stars intertwine, inviting you to ponder the delicate dance of near and far.
On the last day of 2023, as the sun began its descent on Cocoa Beach, I found myself tracing the contours of a heart laid out in Ark Clam shells. Each shell, with its ridges and grooves, felt like a chronicle of the ocean’s whispers. This artful mosaic, set against the granular canvas of the beach, was a testament to the playful hands of time and tide. I marveled at the intention behind it, the human desire to create and connect, to leave a mark, however fleeting, on the vastness of nature.
The shells were cool and firm under my fingertips, each one a unique piece of the year’s mosaic. Some were a pristine white, while others bore the earthy tones of the sea’s floor. I pondered the journeys they had taken, tumbling in the ocean’s embrace before resting here, on the threshold of a new year. The act of arranging them into a symbol of love felt like an ode to the past year’s collective joys and sorrows, an offering to the unknown adventures of the year to come.
As the day waned, my gaze shifted from the shells to where the water met the sky. There, a sailboat floated serenely, a silent sentinel between two worlds. It was a picture of solitude, a single vessel on the brink of the infinite sea, beneath the expanding dome of the heavens. On the horizon, the silhouette of a cargo ship whispered stories of distant lands and the ceaseless pulse of commerce and exploration that defined our modern era.
The beach was quiet, the sounds of the day giving way to the evening’s peaceful lull. The sailboat’s stillness was a stark contrast to the perpetual motion of the cargo ship, each representing different paths on the water’s vast canvas. One was an emblem of leisure and simplicity, the other of industry and complexity. Both near and far, they were the day’s quiet companions, their stories part of the fabric of the Space Coast.
As twilight deepened into night, the stars began to emerge, one by one, until the sky was a tapestry of celestial wonder. With my iPhone 14 Pro Max, I captured this cosmic dance, the constellation of stars that had been the silent witnesses to Earth’s revolutions. The constellations, those mythic shapes that have long sparked human imagination, seemed to hold the secrets of what had been and what was to come. They were distant suns, their light traveling unfathomable distances to reach me, to reach us, as we stood on the brink of a new beginning.
I couldn’t help but feel a connection to the stars, a kinship with their ancient light. They reminded me that we, too, are part of this grand cosmic design, our lives stitched into the universe’s expansive quilt. On the beach, with the shells at my feet and the stars overhead, I was caught in the delicate balance of near and far—the tangible reality of the shells I could touch and the distant glow of starlight from ages past.
As the year ticked closer to its end, I stood between the intimate artistry of the shell heart and the boundless majesty of the star-filled sky, a lone observer of time’s relentless march. The Space Coast, with its unique blend of earthly beauty and human aspiration, was the perfect stage for this reflection. Here, on Cocoa Beach, I embraced the last moments of 2023, ready to welcome the new year, with its promise of continuance and change, its constant dance of near and far.
Threaded with bird call
Folded sails greet the first light
A new year takes flight
Step onto the sands of Cape Canaveral and witness the majestic departure of the Adventure of the Seas—feel the sea’s call in this tranquil yet vibrant maritime farewell.
As I walk along the stretch of Cape Canaveral Beach, the soft crunch of shells underfoot and the rhythmic lull of the waves create a symphony of natural tranquility. The sand is cool and firm, a consequence of the tide’s playful retreat.
The beach is a canvas of human relaxation. Families are sculpting sandcastles, while others are sprawled on towels, soaking up the hesitant sun that plays peek-a-boo with the clouds. The beachgoers are a mix of the attentive and the oblivious, the latter lost in books or surrendering to the lull of the ocean breeze. Children’s laughter punctuates the air, as unfettered as the seagulls that dance above.
And then, there it is—the grandeur of the ‘Adventure of the Seas,’ a Royal Caribbean marvel, cutting a fine figure, dwarfing the jetty. The juxtaposition is startling. Here on the shore, life is leisurely and measured in moments and tides. Out there, on that floating citadel, time is about to be sliced into days and nights of Caribbean adventure. The ship, immense and sovereign, is like a skyscraper laid on its side, a testament to human ingenuity and the desire to explore beyond the water’s edge.
I can’t help but feel small as I watch the ship’s gentle departure, a behemoth gliding on the water with a grace that belies its size. On its decks, the passengers are tiny figures, distant and yet full of stories. Among them stands one passenger on the bow, just outside the safety of the fence—a silhouette against the vastness of the sea. A soul brave enough to step out of the bounds, perhaps seeking a moment of solitude before melding into the ship’s communal tapestry.
The air is laden with the salty tang of the ocean and the murmur of human voices. The beach, a haven of repose, and the ship, a vessel of discovery, create a harmony of contrasts. It’s a poignant reminder of life’s beautiful dichotomies—the stillness and the movement, the familiar and the unknown.
As the ship picks up pace, making its way towards its first destination on an 8-night voyage through the Eastern Caribbean, I’m captivated by the thought of the worlds it will touch. Ports like Labadee, Puerto Plata, and Charlotte Amalie await the footprints of those aboard, each stop an opportunity for stories yet to be written.
I imagine the passengers, soon to be awash in the colors, sounds, and textures of distant lands, while I remain, feet buried in the sand, a keeper of the threshold between land and sea. The vessel’s wake is a fading signature on the water, a reminder of the paths we choose and the adventures we seek.
The last glimpse of ‘Adventure of the Seas’ is a postcard-perfect vision, a snapshot of human endeavor set against the canvas of nature’s immensity. And as it disappears from sight, the beach slowly reclaims its quietude, the momentary disruption of departure ebbing away like the tide.
In the quiet aftermath, I’m left with a sense of wonder and a yearning for the unknown. The ship’s journey has stirred a wanderlust within me, a desire to set sail on my own journey, to find new horizons beyond the comforting embrace of the shore. But for now, I’m content to walk this beach, to carry the image of that grand departure, and to dream of the day when I, too, will step beyond the fence and into the vast embrace of the sea.
Discover the mysterious journey of an ocean-worn hawser on Cocoa Beach. Join me in unraveling its sea-tossed tales and the profound messages the tides bring to our shores.
As I strolled along the familiar expanse of Cocoa Beach, a silver mist hung over the horizon, blurring the line where the Atlantic whispered to the skies. My footsteps, a quiet percussion against the hush of dawn, were the only sound until the waves added their chorus. I was here to greet the sunrise, a ritual that never failed to ground me, but today, the ocean had laid out a surprise – a hawser, heavy and worn, beached like a leviathan of the deep.
There it lay, a colossal rope, its many fibers frayed and clinging to sand, a testament to its battle with the ocean’s might. This hawser, a lifeline once to vessels that dared to navigate treacherous waters, was now at the mercy of the tides that once heeded its command. I approached, curious, reverence growing within me for this unexpected relic of human endeavor.
The hawser’s journey to my path was a story written in the ebb and flow of the tides. The high tide, under the pull of the moon’s invisible hands, had surged with purpose, pushing this massive rope to the shore as its offering. High tides are nature’s way of reaching out, touching the land, and sometimes, they bring gifts from the depths, each with a tale to tell.
Touching the hawser, I felt connected to the lives it must have touched, the storms it weathered, and the unspoken histories it held. Each thread was a narrative, a voyage, a storm survived. The macro images of the hawser’s frayed ends resembled the intricate work of a natural tapestry – artful, chaotic, yet purposeful. It was a mosaic of experience, and now, it was a part of Cocoa Beach’s landscape.
The hawser at the foot of the lifeguard station stood as a symbol of humanity’s interaction with the mighty sea. We build structures, craft vessels, and forge hawsers, asserting our presence. Yet, the tides remind us of our place within the grand tapestry of nature. Tides dance around our creations, sometimes reclaiming them, other times presenting them back to us, reshaped, redefined.
As I sat by the hawser, the sun broke free from the horizon, casting golden hues over the beach. The tide was retreating, pulling back into the ocean’s embrace, leaving behind patterns on the sand, and the hawser – a silent sentinel of the shore. It was a moment of reflection on the power of the tides, the constant cycle of giving and taking, and the marks they leave upon both the earth and our lives.
The tides had brought the hawser to Cocoa Beach, and with it, a moment of connection to the vastness of the sea and the shared journeys of all who traverse it. As I walked away, the hawser remained – a fixture until the tide would rise again, perhaps to claim it back or offer another token of the ocean’s depths. The power of the tides is a powerful metaphor for life’s ebb and flow, each wave a new beginning, each retreat a chance to reflect on the imprints left behind.
Explore Cape Canaveral National Seashore and Kennedy Space Center with us, where pristine beaches meet the legacy of human space exploration, and feel the awe of standing where history was made.
As we arrived at the pristine shores of Playalinda Beach within the Canaveral National Seashore, the gentle whisper of waves against the shoreline beckoned us. The sun kissed the horizon, casting a warm glow across the 24 miles of untouched, protected coastline that lay before us. Here, on the east coast of Florida, where crystal-blue waters embrace the shell-laden sands, we found ourselves at the intersection of natural beauty and human achievement.
We strode along the boardwalk, passing through dunes adorned with sea oats, to find our spot upon the soft sands of Playalinda. The beach, known for its tranquility and the chance to observe a vibrant array of wildlife, offered us a moment of peace. With no distractions—no concessions, no showers, just nature—we were able to disconnect from the world and reconnect with the earth. From our vantage point, the Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge across the water was a haven for migrating birds, dolphins, and, with some luck and the right season, sea turtles nest on the beach itself.
But it wasn’t just the natural allure that drew us here. Playalinda holds a unique position, offering an unobstructed view of the historic launch pads of Kennedy Space Center, where Apollo 11 began its monumental journey to the Moon. As we walked south towards the fence bordering the Space Center, the anticipation built within us. Here, we were tracing the footsteps of giants, those brave astronauts who dared to venture into the unknown.
Each step brought us closer to the site where humanity took one of its most significant leaps. Gazing upon the launch complex from the fence, we were reminded of the powerful forces harnessed to break the bonds of gravity. Imagining the roar of the engines, the earth-shaking vibrations, and the fiery ascent of the Saturn V rocket, we felt a deep connection to the past and a sense of awe for the pioneering spirit that propelled us into a new era of exploration.
As we wandered back along the beach, the foam of the ocean’s edge lapping at our feet, we reflected on the duality of our surroundings. Here, in this place of quiet solitude, we also stood at the forefront of human innovation and ambition. The juxtaposition of the peaceful beach with the technological marvels just a stone’s throw away was not lost on us.
Our journey to the Cape Canaveral National Seashore and the Kennedy Space Center fence was more than just a visit to a beach or a historic site; it was a pilgrimage to a place where dreams materialize and reach for the stars. It was here that we came to understand the full spectrum of emotions that accompany great achievements—the hope, the fear, the triumph.
Our visit to the Cape Canaveral National Seashore and the Kennedy Space Center was an experience that will linger in our memories for years to come. It was a reminder of what we can achieve when we are united by a common goal, and it filled us with pride and optimism for the future. As we looked back one last time, the setting sun seemed to whisper a promise of the wonders yet to come, both here on the shores of Playalinda and in the vast expanse of space that awaits us.
Morning’s first blush stirs,
Horizon whispers in gold
Day’s ancient new song.
Join me on a journey through Inishmore, Galway Bay on a horse-drawn carriage. We’ll see a ruined church, horse pasture, and iron age fort, Dun Aengus, with reflections on the word ‘riven.’
The Sound of Laughter Among Friends
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 