When I was a little girl, my family went on picnics. The Gypsy Kings CD took us to La Jolla and we’d lay our enormous blanket on the grass above the tide-pools. The overflowing basket was packed with deli sandwiches, canned sodas, plates, and a small honey-yellow crocheted box hidden at the bottom with three rows of sweet-tarts candies. Keenan and I would split a “just cheese” sandwich, or give it up unwillingly to a low swooping seagull. At dusk, the four of us would scurry down the cliffs, a perilous journey for me in my pink shorts and sneakers, but Dad’s shoes would squish a grass path and I’d step in each indented footprint until we reached the bottom. The water in the tide-pools danced softly in the fading rays of the sun and I’d jump from one to another entranced by the life they possessed. I think it was on these picnics that I fell in love with seeing the worlds I discovered. Its no wonder that whenever I return to these pools now I search for new wonders. Capturing my finds with my lens is to see them again and again. Like this, a sandy ledge that echoes the shades of the sky it lives beneath, and the ocean that washes it in its waves.
- 
- 
KIRA'S PHOTOBLOG 
This photo comes off like a Van Gogh painting…and nice copy, too, Kira girl.