Once again, I am by a node for a few minutes and will, accordingly, take advantage.

Taking up where I left off, the audio set-up which I utilized worked flawlessly.

That is, except for one minor glitch.

It seems that there are buttons on the front of the Mbox (generation 3) which turn on and off the front jacks.

Nice to know when you are wondering why there is no sound.

So, at 7:30 p.m., as the Sun was just above the horizon and setting, the first noises came out of the speakers.

Later in the evening I set up a number of templates e.g. choir, strings, electronic, etc.

Everything tested well.

So, this morning I broke out Pietro Mascagni's Intermezzo and began remembering how it is put together.

Suddenly I realized that my heavenly choir had arrived with a set of strings along with them, and were in the room singing with me.

Pretty nice with the raging surf in the background.

Which it was not last night (i.e. was NOT in background).

It was very much in the foreground as the waves were coming up over the wall and splashing all over the place wildly.

It got a little bit scary to go out the front door for awhile.

One can never be too sure just what the next wave will or will not do.

And every so many waves it would really start pumping so that you could see between 5 and 7 waves all forming right in front of you simultaneously.

Add to this the backwash from the seawall which gets more and more radical as the tide gets higher and higher and the waves slam into the wall harder and harder as it shakes the ground beneath your feet violently and forcefully as the backwash becomes faster and more forceful and larger as water is now spraying all over the place as one wave crashes into another and then another and another still.

Finally, the road just down from where I was sitting had waves coming up over the wall and onto the road.

People were unable to pass as they tried to get out.

It was really spectactular to watch out the front of the huge windshield on the Winnebago Sightseer.

The waves were hitting the side of the RV as I began to wonder just how much higher this tide had to go.

I kept a close eye on it as it finally peaked out and began to back off, ever so slowly.

I laid down in bed with the door wide open and watched the waves and tide as I was half asleep and half awake at the same time.

As I looked every so often just to see what was happening, I noticed that the very full moon was making a crystal light which was becoming more and more spectacular by the minute.

Finally, at about 4 a.m., I just couldn't stand it any more as I looked out and noticed that the tide had gone way, way out (what we used to call a "minus tide") and that there was a huge, miles long stretch of beach just crying out to be walked on with no one out there at all, except me.

It is very dreamlike and becomes moreso with each passing minute.

Is this the lunacy which comes from lunar madness, do you suppose?


Don't you have to be just a little bit looney to get up at 4 a.m. just to go out and bathe in the moon's rays and finally watch the moonset as the Sun just begins to cast it's first rays of morning light at about 5 a.m.?

I don't really know, but I do suspect it helps.


11:39 a.m. pst
Ventura, California, USA