Monday on Oceanside Pier

Have you ever been to Oceanside, the proper noun? I hadn't. Thought I would go.

For those who want the near-the-water view without getting their feet sandy or wet, you can pay a quarter.

Unfortunately, this is all you'd see without a quarter. Terrible, I know.

The Oceanside pier is similar to OB with all of the fishermen, fisherwomen, and fisherchildren. Though you'll have to wade through crowds to get there, Ruby's, a fledged restaurant, awaits at the far end of the pool.

I think that barely counts as surfing the curl if he could have pulled his arm in. Tubular.

At the end of the pier.

Fishing I think is one of the last social past times not inundated with anti-social gadgetry like cell phones and music players. The fad, rather, is minimalistic and fortunately fashion free. The rails coated in fish blood, buckets filled with the now breathless honest sense of realism where people can connect without a front. I like it.

Spring flowers.

If you've never seen a pelican hunt, you'd think it was malwired for destruction. They circle, circle, and cruise the heavy air high up, until silently they tip their wings and plunge headfirst into the water. Pictured below is a pelican just after it's face broke the water when it's bill would open wide to snatch any fish. Ridiculous.

Before the divebomb.

Girl surfer taking a peak over the crest.

Outrunning water.