Chapter VIII 



Shore and Other Birds 



DESPITE the monotony of California beaches, 

 the interminable wastes of sand and shifting 

 sand dunes, they have a charm in their animal 

 life. Near Santa Monica the mountains dip into the 

 sea, and there rocks are seen, and again at Point 

 Firmin ; but from here until you reach the Laguna 

 country, or below Newport, the long lines of white sand 

 hold for miles, against which the sea pounds, tossing 

 the spume high in air to be carried inland over fields of 

 flowers. 



The beach is worn by the wind into marvellous 

 shapes and is ever changing. Look at it in early morn- 

 ing before the west wind rises ; its surface is a biological 

 record of the night. It is covered with footprints and 

 mystic signs. Crabs have crossed it ; snails have left a 

 silvery trail ; sea birds have stopped here, and this 

 strange mark is the flipping of the wings of a laugh- 

 ing gull as it flew along just above it. Throngs of 

 shore birds seem to have paraded along the sands, and 



