the sound of santa cruz

in a somewhat secluded part of the beach in santa cruz (think of some hazy UCSC students sunbathing and a guy with a guitar), i sit down on a fallen tree and start searching for sounds. first thing i hear is the closest - the seaborne wind is sprinkled over all other sounds. then i hear the gulls and the ocean, and the shrieks from the little american boys and girls. after a minute or so a new sound (so distinct i can't believe i hadn't heard it before) starts to creep up on me. presently, i don't even know what it is but it originates from behind me. and it is fast taking over all other sounds in contest for my attention. it is a kind of a clanking, deep but precise. think of big mothlike bullets hitting a metal plate made mostly of wood. i look back to notice a yard of sailboats, neatly parked and promptly abandoned. walking towards it, i am able to discern how the sound is made - the ropes hit against the masts because of the sea breeze, and because they are positioned at different angles, they hit at different intervals. an orchestra of lonely sailboats is being made for me and me alone, their rhythm unpredictable but familiar. i stand in the middle of that yard for a long time, hearing only the sailboats and the wind, thinking that this is what makes oceans and symphonies alike.