I’m driving north on Seal Beach Boulevard. The vast blue Pacific basking in the California sun beckons me to bask with her. Suddenly, two signboards side by side by the side of the road alert my awareness that something’s amiss. My head snaps left.
Sign One proclaims the barb-wired, guard-towered site a naval weapons station. For a moment I am transported…
Visions dance of airborne fright:
missiles ride on beams of light,
raining drones of deadly devastation,
to defend, they say, our distant nation,
yet tearing flesh from arms and legs
of trusting children, any age,
even babies riding mothers’ hips.
All unannounced from unseen ships.Sign Two proclaims the self-same site a national wildlife refuge. The irony evokes a smirk.
Then my sight swivels right, back to the road, attention focused on the sunbathed beach dead ahead.
The Naval Weapons Station used to be my backyard, so to speak. For some years I would drive by it on the way to work, and I too had the same feeling about the dual aspects of the site. I did actually get aboard the NWS once for an open house (to board a Navy vessel that is), but I didn’t see any wildlife (except, of course, the sailors partying). 😀