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Deer do it. So do . . . whales, dragonflies, eels, and more . But the annual mermaid migration, I find, is as magical to me as it is to the young girl watching for the first time, taking photos, and one of the princesses of the sea came over and blew some sparkles all around.
When the mermaids migrate in, they bring entourages of music,
like samba, and
loud marching bands and
shrillest of pipes.
The mermaids feted some old-timers like daddy-oh!
They brought in some commercial land folk with adaptations.
They even engaged in some unexpected commerce.
They commandeered a “fruits of the sea” sacrifice bearer.
Of course, there were some humans who felt they needed to “administer” the event, BUT
otherwise, the sea creatures just emerged, checked their makeup, and
and exuded their legendary grace
much to the delight of all the photographers or just admirers.
They stayed the day, rainy as it was, before taking flight until the next time.
I’ve missed only twice in the past decade: here are posts from 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010 . . . and you can find more just by scrolling way down to the archives . . . lower left and searching June each year around the 21st.
All photos here by Will Van Dorp.
About lobster migrations, click here.
And about animals in parades, the NYTimes this morning had this great story on a swimming/patrolling beast from its Brazilian bureau chief . . .
It can only be midsummer for a few long days. Store up on the color, frivolity, music, and laughter the mermaids bring ashore for the rest of the year. When they come through the intersection and turn down Surf Avenue, everyone stops to watch them pass.
And then, the hoop stops spinning and drops. Tails and scales return and mermaids hurry back to their occupations beneath the waves, leaving us to return to our pursuits. The moon wanes, as the music fades, replaced by raucous horns of frustrated drivers stuck in traffic. Days shorten. Temperatures oppress. And we have only memories of this to get us through another year.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
And if you think this is an NYC-unique event, check out the zeemeerminnen.
This is the work and play post . . . the real connection is that although we all have to work, an important secret is to enjoy what you do. Imagine this enthusiasm in a co-worker or yourself on Monday morning, whether you’re struggling to finish a group report or
the folks at NYS Marine Highway, now shipping corn–yes–corn–out of Ontario and into the Erie Canal. How long has it been that agricultural commodities have been shipped on the Erie Canal . . . how long have people talked about shipping same on that waterway that revolutionized NYC . . . or international shipping entering the Erie Canal, but Margot (over a half century young) and its crew
doing it! Bravo to the folks at NYS Marine Highway. Click here for lots more fotos of Margot.
South African fotos come compliments of Colin Syndercombe; the Oswego/Erie Canal fotos, . . . Allan and Sally of Sally W, and all the others by Will Van Dorp.
Related: Here’s another ALE job.
Unrelated: The longest marathon swim starts tomorrow morning over 100 miles up the Hudson.
The other side of the boro . . . the strand on Coney Island, sees a visitation of finnyfolk, who briefly leave the water for this sun festival. Enjoy this field guide to western North Atlantic merpeople. These came in a replica of Nefertiti’s royal barge.
First . . . around the boro, the light is beauteous enough to suspend a sense of time and obligation and stress and disappointment. This side of the boro, though on duty, works the milder solstice.
Lynx (1967, ex-Catherine Foss, Kainani) probably working with a dredging project, I’ve never seen here before.
a different season, as seen here.
In this heat and light, Kimberly looks positively artdeco: her aqua would blend in on South Beach and way beyond.
Miriam Moran cruises past Sailors’ Snug Harbor, as purposefully as always.
Jane A. Bouchard races deep into right field, showing what waters can be divided by more than 6000 hp on the wheels, while her older sister
the venerable Patty Nolan dons her midsummer’s bikini, freshens up her dancing paint . . . the mayor’s drum is soon to call to disorder the 2012 parade . . . the sixth boro’s shoreline version of Mardi Gras.
Unrelated: If you happen to “see things” when you pass the KVK salt pile on Saturday night, you’re not hallucinating. Lumen will happen.
For an auspicious virtual gallivant as they sally forth through the Rideau Canal from Lake Ontario to Ottawa and beyond, follow Sally W . . .
Horns aplenty (more than in Pamplona Seattle) feted the solstice, as did
and here . . . beyond the cowboy in blue toga, library maids and masters with a classic edition of Jules Verne . . . .
By the next day, revelry had migrated to Red Hook, where theatrical scenes of fund-raising on behalf of PortSide NewYork took place, involving officers of
someone’s flotilla bearing keys to the city. By the way, if you can make it to the Community Board 1 meeting TONIGHT by 6 pm, I’ll see you there. Important!
And someone commented . . asking what this mermaidographer looked like, click here and go to #9; thanks for these to Claudia Hehr.
Cheers. Summer is here . . . and I may tomorrow be agallivantin . . .
Meanwhile, if anyone got good pics of the librarian mermaid/mermen contingent . . . please share?
Coney Island–the reef–has existed within the sixth boro since time immemorial, this gathering has occurred since 1983, and tugster has blogged it since 2007, drawn by the natural beauty of creatures–like this one— with
breathing behavior in dry–if muggy- air, and … more.
But I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that . . . as the mermaids school on this reef, so does another species . . . camera-bearers. Even chief-liaison Dick Zigun has cameras turned on him.
And mermaids themselves sport cameras, maybe as mimicry.
OK, all fotos here by Will Van Dorp.
Totally related: in the third foto from end above . . . one mermaid sported a tugboat atop her hear but my shot was blurry. Also, I missed a shot of the “librarian mermaids,” which, if anyone got, I’d love a link or a copy.
#1 was here.
It’s June. Might you be suffering from hypoclupea . . . deficiency of herring? Read what the celebrated neurologist Oliver Sacks writes about treatment here, as published in the New Yorker two years ago. Hypoclupea can leave you blase, bleached, apathetic . . .
dried out . . . as Miss Callie herself is feeling these days. To see Miss Callie in her element among the fishes, click here.
exchange cash or credit at the nearest purveyor of “new catch holland herring,” and you’ll find your zest for life just
returns! You might even end up seeing mermaids without having to go to the latest Depp/Disney show.
And finally, last but not least, you’ll see a new image of “tugster” on the upper left side of this blog; click on the image and you’ll see part of an article that appeared in Jack Tar Issue #5. Watercolor is by Herb Ascherman of Cold is the Sea blog. Another great example of his work is cover on Jack Tar #5.
Thoughts of anything but summer . . . with its adventures and gallivants . .. are elusive, for me. Dana Spiotta writes of that in tomorrow’s NYTimes magazine, recounting a voyage on the Erie Canal by rowboat with Tide and Current Taxi‘s very own Marie Lorenz. You could go fishing: both Marlin and Minnow are currently in the sixth boro.
A week from now you could swim around Manhattan . . . or volunteer to keep swimmers safe by emailing email@example.com
In a week you could go to the Clearwater Festival.
Next Saturday . . . the sea will again boil with hot blood and creatures rarely seen will emerge and parade. It’s the 29th
annual Mermaid Parade and Ball!!!
Thanks, Yen, for that foto.