Sharon Eckardt's Poems and Stories [deceased Dec. 2007]
and some reader responses home morsels page 


Circles of Self submitted 7-31-05

Circles of Self, like lakes overlapping at one another's shores, here lies the source of our problems with each other.
Where does my circle of freedom cease?
Where does your circle of freedom preside?

Ripples of dialogue converge as circles of self interface.
Each nation, each self, a diplomat
negotiating boundaries and personal treaties.

As we mingle waters at each other's shores, do we smoothly exchange our energies, or do we entangle our energies in conflict over abstract and real time boundary disputes?
Circles of Self overlapping at each other's shores.
Each house, each self an ambassador
negotiating boundaries and personal treaties.

Do the merging waters of Self battle in turmoil, or do they mingle in harmony?

Is energy flowing to and fro, from lake to lake, soul to soul, in harmony, each one replenishing the other? If not, why not?

Energy surging out from center of self, out from center of family.
Energy flowing from neighbor to neighbor, from nation to nation as effects of doings rush outwardly and around the world.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA

A Different View of Time submitted 3-20-05

I believe if people can learn to perceive time as Nowness rather than linear that it will change the world for the better.  I'm sending one of my poems on a "Different View of Time."  There are two parts.  The second part is entitled "Frequency of Now."
Eternally Now, Sharon

Free falling into the future, we create the past.
Falling into the center of Now we create history.
History mandala of completed memories and events
encircles us like the condensed rings of Saturn.

Look around! What do we see?
The walls of a room containing a small box of dancing
multi-colored light consuming all our attention.
The ass of the car ahead of us on the rat race freeway.

Or, the lusty beauty of Life as we follow our dreams?

Gaze out across the terrain to take in the moment.
Sky reaching down to embrace the geometric shapes of Earth, ourselves at the center of focus.

Start with our hands, our feet,
expanding our view outwardly to full circle,
scoping the horizon line of earth ship,
our actions the center of our Now.

Each and every being's actions,
the center of a sea of converging NOWS
exchanging, interacting, reacting.

As we generate thoughts into events,
time is falling in on itself,
expanding outwardly from center of doings.

Expanding outwardly from the center of deeds,
like a ballerina on the tip of a pin, we interact
to the rhythms of the converging energy
transformations of each personal Now.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA


Dragon fly or darting swallow,
a second perceived as a minute
A child, an hour an eternity
An adult at play, a day too short
An adult on a boring job,
an hour agonizes into an eternity?
Time is a hole into which we are continually
falling into the future, filling the void.

The frequencies of the filtered Now of the animal condition varies depending on our state of biology and mind.

To a zipping acrobatic fly, dodging the executioner's fly swatter, its perception of time is different than the compressed time sense that a human experiences.

Falling from a horse, a few seconds seems an eternity.
To a human, surfing a wave, her time sense is expanded like a decompressing computer file, and time seems to stand still.

If we were to experience True Now, all would be instantaneous, and we would expand into the Consciousness of the universe.
Our earthly reality would vanish into pure energy abuzz with Consciousness.

Stonehenge of Radios

Sitting at the center of a mandala of all the radios in the world, all blaring at the same time, would be a meaningless ear piercing cacophony
In our animal state of being, we're limited to filtered Now
Or are we? WOW

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

The Rapture Project  submitted 6-7-04

Earth years ago the aliens fell into orbit around the Blue World.  They were elated to find such a beautiful jewel, just like their home world that had been destroyed by tribal warfare.  They had the technology to conquer the Blue World as their own, but found that they had been living in low gravity space for so long that their bodies had atrophied.  Because of their wimpy bodies, they were not able to withstand the gravity of the Blue World and were unable to make landfall.

As the technology of the Blue World's dominate species evolved, not to be discovered the aliens had to move out behind the moon.  They had been researching a great plan to enhance their physical strength.  They created gravity by rapid acceleration of their space craft to create body mass.  They worked out during these brief periods of accelerated velocity to build muscle but found this to be working too slowly.  They also had to create bodies that could withstand the sun and the polluted atmosphere of this world.

They made the decision to incorporate human genes into their physical matrixes.  To do this they had to make contact with the Beings of the world of their desires.  With this contact, they became infected with jealousy for the virility and beauty of the Blue World Beings.

By beaming out discordant energy frequencies at the Blue World, thoughts of violence and intolerance are being implanted into key figures around the world.  How long will it take for mankind to self-destruct so they can move in?  There they sit waiting for us to kill each other off in a game called greed, revenge and avenge so they can take over Earth Turf?  They will save a few for slaves.  They call their evil plan THE RAPTURE PROJECT.

Infected by their own discordant energy beam , feuding and fighting broke out on the alien ship.  Than came the Blue World flue causing a great sickness aboard the now weakened alien ship.  A message from the few survivors of the alien ship, the ones who disapproved of the discordant energy beam, is being sent out, but is not heeded:  It's not to late for the Blue World.  There is still time to save your paradise.  The gravity of your choices and actions is becoming heavier and heavier.  Reverse the momentum, slow the velocity of your destructive misdeeds.  You are reaching critical mass!

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Cellular River submitted 4-27-04

The brain, a mysterious organism, never sleeping,
always busy running background programs
beyond our field of vision.
The mind, a strange process, puts strange thoughts
into our brains, into our bodies. Feed my ego, feed my pig, Belch!

While our ego sleeps, the mind is free to wonder,
to dream of random chaos beyond our ego's realm.
All the while, motherboard brain regulates our bodily processes, keeping us alive, kicking ass.
Molecular, cellular, electrical impulses, chemical interactions, mixing, merging, chains of command, all in cryptic code, keep our organic systems up and running.

Chains of molecules dance into cellular colonies, babies, adults, all wells of self indulgence. The beat, the rhythm of life, is it in harmony
or out of tune, caving into the indulgence of petty irritations?
I'm mad-glad because my gut rules my emotions. The slow goon in the car
ahead, has me in a useless rage in my metallic cage.

Egocentric organic beings scurry across the face of earth-time. I'm hungry, mad, happy, ready for a fight or a peaceful day?
Oh how seriously we play our game, how little we control what goes on in that mysterious part of our brain. The cosmic
intelligence that coordinates our organic life support systems is beyond
our earthly comprehension.

The exchange of cellular information as nutriments are absorbed and
wastes are excreted into the blood stream through cellular membranes.
Life is a sweaty cellular business. Don't sweat it!
Just think if we had to consciously run our bodily factory,
how we would have no time for feuding and fighting.
Why can't we make peace with the world wide cellular rivers?

As we feed our gigantic egos, our cell phones sing to us. What do we
hear, or do we just not listen to the messages coming to us?

If we are the most intelligent creatures in the world,
who created the us? I did, says the Cosmic Consciousness.
So what's your problem? Emotional brain drain?

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Sticky Sea of Emotions  submitted 3-25-04

It's been going on for thousands of years
Earth aura churning with highly charged emotional energy
now at critical mass.

Emotions spinning out of control colliding,
sticking like barnacles on living ship hulls
Standing wave-patterns of charged up emotions reverberate in chaos,
giving life to dangerously corrosive wave-lets of energy
that erode away at the very fabric
of this precariously balanced reality on Earth Turf

Immersed in a sticky sea of emotions,
the magical matrical Beings of Earth Turf twist and struggle
Beings so delicate and vulnerable to these
emanations that they send out and receive
Will they ever learn?

Emotions -- Consuming, engulfing emotions,
rule this World without reason
Like a fog looking for a land fall,
emotions ooze in and have
their way with the Earth Turfers

No doubt, we must re-rout
Our dark emotions we must dismount
Lets enter the healing age of transformation

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Worm in the Apple  submitted 3-14-04

There's a worm in the apple
eating out the insides.
When it's done eating
the apple will be dung.

There's a parasite in the White House
eating out the insides.
When it's done eating
our country will be dung.

When our country is dung,
the corpora-site will seek another meal.
When it's done eating
the fruit will be dung.

When, all over the world,
all the fruit has all been devoured,
when all the fruit has turned to dung,
the worm will perish in it's own sewage.

In a new beginning,
life will be fertilized,
will be reorganized
by sucking nourishment
from the rotting Bush.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Super Bowl Sunday submitted 2-1-04

Super Bowl Sunday is a fun day of balls in motion.
The smell of sweaty dudes donned in gladiator duds,
Crashing, smashing, tumbling dudes butting heads,
tackling, rolling with each other on the astro turf.
Team mates patting each others butts.
Is that why we love this game?

The cacophony of the roaring crowds,
the cheapest pew, five hundred bucks a butt.
At home, believers seated before their TV altars
consuming the holy sacrament of their ritual day.
Chips, dips, ribs, spiced up chicken wings never meant to fly. Beer by the keg, trips to the porcelain flushing spring.

Oh yes, the object of the game, the pointy phallic orb,
more desirable to hold than a buxom lass' ass.
Pass it, kick it, receive it. Caress it, love it, hug it, snuggle up to it.
The purpose is to score, to enter the orifice of the mother lode more times than your voracious adversary.

Pre- game show, half-time show bedazzles the congregation.
As fans from both teams cheer them on their moves,
uncontested entertainers hold the field of play

Who wins becomes the lord of the rings,
the possessors of the seven pound Lombardi trophy,
twelve thousand dollars worth of Tiffany sterling silver,
the weight of a new born baby.
Sixty three thousand dollars, the prize for each player.
five thousand dollars a finger for championship rings.

Losers cry, only thirty four thousand five hundred dollars each. What's worst, naked, ringless fingers.

Commercials preach their product sermons.
Whose going to win the game?
Thirty second commercials, two million dollars a pop.
That's who wins the game
while we all gain a pound or two.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Chameleon submitted 9-16-03

Shifting colors, like the chameleon,
we interface with the mirror of our many selves,
who parade like a mural through our aura.
Is our inner light still true?

Flick, flick goes the tongue,
a lizard is a lizard, feeling, sensing,
what colors shall I display?

At the shark BBQ, Liberal Roddy, a very good chameleon interfacing with conservative Robert.
Yes, the shark was tasty, no one was testy.

Skirting around the reef of political shipwreck
to a clear navigational channel
leading to the joy of good music,
surfing, dogs, love of life,
a good time was had by all

Roddy, Robert and guests
smiling, laughing, eating, no angry ranting and raving.
Roddy's and Kate's inner light prevailing,
chameleon colors dancing in harmony and peace.

Each self we exchange self with,
is one of the many faces of our total self.
Some we can show our sweet nut meats to,
others, we must tread lightly.

What is our true self? Is that when we express our dreams, our art, our
music, our joy, our understanding?
That tender little nut meat inside a hard protective shell.
Is that Us?

Does this all mean that the true self
is the sum total of all our selves on this Earth realm?
Does the flexible self, walk freer than the rigid self?

Does our inner light, our true self radiate harmony
while our outer light adapts, shifting colors like the chameleon?

A lizard is a lizard, flick, flick goes the tongue.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Dew submitted 8-19-03

Diamond dew drops dance upon
blades of emerald grass,
phallic tips bending, dripping pearls of life.

Wild flowers, purples, pinks,
blues, oranges and yellows
glisten dewy eyed in the morning sun.

Laying in the grass, glued together
in their hormonal stew,
Sue and Drew, glistening with dew,
spent the night pitching woo,
christening themselves
with natures baptism true.

In the morn, they launch one last adieu,
arise and screw, the thwart back
into the canoe next to the poo
in which they stepped the night before.

Listening to the birds sing of spring,
they throw on their shoes and blue jeans,
jump into their canoe, paddle
across the bay to where they view a loo.

All that remains of the christening,
are blades of crushed emerald grass,
the only clue of Sue and Drew's woo
in the dew glistened grass.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Mob Flashers submitted 8-18-03

On the run
hit and run
mob flashing freaks
all the internet geeks
the bloggers meet.
Together in real time
we gather like bees
twisting reality into unreality
Lets meet at the mall
all fall down, roll around
on the hard ground.
Here we are, yak yak,
generating theatrics
to the vast crowds
meaningless nonsense
disappear, reappear down the road in
diapers, high heels, ties,
eating chicken thighs.
That's the mind bloggers world
of mob flashing geeks.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Haiku verses submitted 7-25-03

Hungry coyotes,
whose on the menu tonight?
Fat cat snacks, yum yum.

Kayaking, paddling,
sky mirrored on the water
paddle dipping, dripping sky.

You do what you do
whatever you do not do
is a doing too.

Haiku, how are you?
I'm great, have some fine red wine,
write a verse or two.

Cacti in Baja
collecting windblown banners
streaming used Charmin.

Bored dog in the yard,
let me out to roam and sniff
pee on the rose bushes.

Sly cat on the prowl,
birds mice beware of meow
pounce, got you NOW, missed.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Following Picasso submitted 7-15-03

Following Picasso into
alternate universes,
from blue nudes
to Rose colored moods
he bends notes of color
into the abstract shapes
of life all bent out of shape

"Guernica," dark horse of war
says it all, man's dementia
holding him prisoner to
his own blood thirsty vampires,
hostage to demons born out of
fear of his own mortality.

"Don Quixote," frail of mind and body,
proclaims himself protector of the helpless.
Unfortunate players, under the power
of Don Quixote's madness, fat Sancho Panza,
dreaming of promised wealth and land,
old nag Rosinante, yearning to go home.

The windmill lurking in the distance,
is seen by Don Quixote's dementia
as an enemy to be destroyed.
The good knight, Don Quixote,
will attack the windmill with his lance,
losing to it's angry flailing limbs.
Is Don Quixote, an oracle for man?

"Harlequins" Sad, happy, colorful,
drab, all the moods, all the faces man puts on
when going out onto the stage of life.
Lovers, haters, carefree children,
women with flowers still in tact.
women with no flowers.

Picasso paints the passions cubed,
the gardens of life, in love and strife.
Picasso's brush follows life in every way.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

4th of July submitted 7-4-03

On the 4th of July,
all over the USA,
we celebrate our day off.
Food and drink, outdoor fun,
pretty fireworks in the sky
bring the children fun and delight.

In Iraq,
all over the world,
all over the calendar,
man celebrates the game of war.
Pretty fireworks in the sky
bring the children horror and fright.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Amazing Salad submitted 6-27-03

From the hilltop they gaze upon the salad,
lettuce, vegies, mouth watering flowers,
amazing splendor blazing with color.

Appraising the salad of valid fiber,
they draw a little closer to the fodder.

Praising the ballad of nature's bounty,
the deer jump the fence to graze upon
the amazing hospitality of John and Grace.

After returning home, oh dear,
John and Grace turn quite pallid
upon appraising the razing
of their once amazing garden.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Gaggle of geese submitted 6-11-03

Deep in thought, I stood on the bluff when
the sound of voices coming off the wind rippled bay
beckoned for my attention.
I looked up to see a gaggle of geese gossiping.
I exclaimed out loud.

"You fooled me, I thought you were real people
engaged in real people conversation."

In riotous concert, as if in jest, the geese voices merged as one force.
"Ha, ha, ha!"

As they took wing to the freedom of the sky, I swear I could hear them
calling out to me.

"We are The Geese People,
a Nation of migratory families.

Looking down upon the chaos of your human flight patterns, we laugh at your self deception.
"Ha, ha, ha!"

The gaggle of voices soared overhead before climbing high into the sky.
The sound of their wing beats excited my soul.
"Ha, ha, ha!"

In perfect harmony, as if of one mind,
the geese changed direction towards the south.

In the distance, I heard the screeching of car tires followed by the
ear shattering sound of colliding metallic bodies.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Traversing the universe submitted 6-6-03

Traversing the universe,
living in reverse,
rehearsing the old verse,
rewriting the worst verse.

Submersing into the inverse,
verging into the perverse,
dispersing the sins of the old curse,
into the miracles of the new verse.

Conversing with the adverse,
we reimburse with a knockwurst,
offering a terse verse,
before departing with a full purse.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

There is no starlight submitted 6-4-03

In the beginning, there is no starlight,
only gas farticles play the heavens.
Massive clouds of cavorting hydrogen particles,
precipitate out of the mysterious void,
forming up like spun sugar fantasies into,
cotton candy dark galaxies of whirling gas.

Let there be light! Within these galaxies,
huge concentrations of gas compress to ignition point,
to become star-fires for lighting the heavens.

Illuminated spun sugar galaxies,
studded with hot sexy star-fires,
careen across the heavens like hurricanes,
hurricanes colliding, mating, creating
even more galaxies , more star-fires.

Out of this conception is born self important earth.
Our Aliveness is evolving, changing,
gas is our true ancestry.
Remember if you can, what it was like,
when we were a cosmic fart, passing around.
Even now we are filled to the brim with hot gas.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Tailgating Time on Highway 69 submitted 4-27-03

A lonely metallic crowd meets on highway 69,
encased lunatics in the anal parade, tailgating time.

Speedaholics behind glass, nipping at metallic asses,
phallic-metallic ticked off lovers sniff up the gases.

Look in the mirror to see behind you in the line,
yourself glaring back at yourself from the car behind.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

"Iraqi" Limerick submitted 4-26-03

There was a young soldier from Hackensacky
who killed brutally, a multitude of Iraqi.
He fired his gun, to free the soil, rich with oil
then returned home, to his family, quite wacky.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Solar Delight submitted 3-27-03

I Sun, have enhanced your earthly Live Force with my light, my warmth.

Without me, you would not Be.

I have watched you evolve and change, as you have watched me change through my eleven year cycles of solar activity.

Although I don't understand your plights or your internal fights, we should be each other's delight.

I hope that you know, without my light, there would be no plights or fights for you to find delight in fighting.

Enjoy to the fullest, your time slot of Earthly Being.

It's your moment to propagate anger and unrest into your biosphere?

Or, it's your moment to restore, to resolve?

Earth Turfers, you are scripting your ode to Life, as, I Sun, am celebrating to the fullest my orgasm of Life!

After all, it's your moment to shine or to decline.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Pandora's Box of Fear submitted 2-12-03

I'm Osama Bin Laden, playing with your heads.

I'm Osama, ring master of the greatest Jihad on earth.

I present to you, Pandora's box of fear and horrors!  Open it!

Attack Iraq, and you play right into my hands!

Let the war begin!  I can hardly wait to see the evil grow and grow, consuming all of humanity!

I'm Osama, inviting your ship of fools into my darkness.

The voice of logical reason speaks out.

Let the inspections work!

Let the peace keepers put a lock on Pandora's box!

Let the peace keepers sit on Iraq for as long as it takes.

Iraq is now occupied by the peace keepers of the world.

No need for war.  No need for bloodshed.

America take heart!

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

Columbia Oracle
Peace must be top gun
  submitted 2-6-03

A sacrificial lamb,
space shuttle Columbia,
broke up on re-entry.
Falling in shards from above,
back down to earth,
back down to reality to send us a message.

A cloudburst of debris tumbling,
deep into the heart of Texas,
the heart of Bush-land.
The first debris detected
was in a small Texan town
with the name Palestine.

An oracle pointing to the heart breaking
Palestinian-Israeli conflict?
Guiding our attention to the source of infection,
a hatred that must be healed ?

Seven souls lost, one an Israeli,
his body parts, star of David found
on the border between two states.
Just a coincidence,
a directive for Bush,
a sign for the Israelis to seek peace?

Palestinian suicide bombings of Israelis,
Israelis ripping up Palestinian olive groves,
destroying, stealing farm land, homes,
blocking access to water and life.
The Genocide, the fear must stop.

We can't cover our eyes any longer.
Mediation by a neutral Council,
must pursue a solution fair to both brothers, so
two States may evolve to prosper side by side.

Attacking Iraq, a smoke screen for covert actions,
will destroy us faster than any terrorist can,
bankrupting our country,
bankrupting our humanity.
To save our world from destruction,
Peace must be top gun.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

"Plover Poem" Across the Dunes

Kayaks beached on the side of a dune, 
we begin our trek from shining bay, 
across the dunes, to shining sea.

Teasing the dunes, water in fog form defies gravity.
Ethereal water floating on water tickles our fantasies. 
Mystery mist plays with the sun, 
opening windows to paint with the light.

As we follow in the tracks of deer, fox and coyotes,
the wind rippled sand is cool, friendly to the feet. 

Up to the crest of lupine studded sand dunes we saunter.
We pause to view the whole pristine scene, 
emerging dreamlike from a sea of luminous vapor . 

Drop down into the canyon meadow where the deer graze.
Past the spring, top the last dune to behold the sea.
Now just a short walk to the driftwood covered beach 
where the surf thunders with white light might. 

But wait, oh no! What does that sign say?
"Do not enter. Stay in the wet sand zone.
Snowy Plover Habitat."
Repelled by a bird, we're stopped in our tracks.

As the fog moves out to sea, the sand is getting warm.
Back across the dunes, past the middens we hike. 
Reaching the crest, the view is breathtaking. 
Sea to the west, Bay to the east, 
Morro Rock, Hollister Peak and Baywood too. 

Racing like skiers down the dune slopes to our kayaks, 
the sand is getting very hot. Doing the hot foot hop. 
Shore birds in panic, swarm like bees, 
casting their reflections upon the bay.

Of all the birds, the Plover is king of the bean.
Oh how the coyotes, foxes and birds of pray love the Plover.
Fast food takeout. Eggs for breakfast, meat for dinner.
A plot by hungry wild life to have man, like sheep dogs, guard the ranch.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.

At the AKC Prim and Proper dog show

At the AKC Prim and Proper dog show,
our big poodle got oodles of complements,
plenty of stares, oodles of disapproving looks too.

Surf thickened coat, bleached out from the sun,
happy spirit dancing at the end of her leash.

She was the envy of all the show dogs,
Reeking of dead fish and tangy beach odors,
all the other dogs, wanted a sniff.

Non of their owners allowed any of this.

Show dogs looked up to their masters, pleading,
³Why Can't we be just like Mike?

Why aren't we having any fun at the beach?

At the AKC Prim and Proper dog show,
our dog came home with a first place blue ribbon.

Didn't get it from a judge, found it lying on the grass.

Picked it up, carried it proudly in her mouth.

She knew what it meant, she was a winner.

Everyone wondering how a beach bum dog,
won a blue ribbon while their well groomed dog won none.

You might say, the Creator chose her
as best of the show, for her free spirit,
for showing the others how to have a good time.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment.
12-05-02  Conflict in the Bay - Hunters versus Kayakers

I got yelled at over at Midden point today by an angry hunter.

I saw a boat on the beach and then this man jumps out from behind
one of those small sand mounds. "Get that god damned yellow kayak out of
here. Your scaring all the ducks."

At that moment I saw the decoys. He told me to go down around the
point across from the marina out of his sight so the ducks don't see me.

I told him that I wasn't going to paddle to Morro Bay because the
tide was going out.

He kept screaming that it was illegal to interfere with hunting and
cursing my yellow kayak.

By now he was in his boat, so I paddled down a ways to the north and he
turned back. He stayed in his boat after that.

When I paddled back towards the south, I paddled out to the east
a ways to give him room, and when I paddled past him, he was waving his
arms at me. How much sea room does he need?

All the Brant were out in the middle of the bay so I wasn't scaring off
his prey.

Could you put something on your web site defining our rights to kayak
on the bay. His attitude was, I had to be completely out of sight.

When I got back to Pasadena street, I saw a beautiful hawk sitting on
the new sign there.

Sharon Eckardt, Los Osos/Baywood Park, CA

Neil Farrell replies: 12-06-02 Duck and Goose Hunting in Morro Bay, Conflict History

Here's a little history about duck hunting on the bay. Every few years people get organized to complain about the hunting in the back bay. This is in addition to the annual complaints that are voiced every winter.  And the hunters, the Black Brant Group, Ducks Unlimited and SLO Sportsmen, rally hunters and sportsmen from around the county and Fresno and Bakersfield to fight it. The Fish and Game is funded in great part to hunting license fees and duck and goose stamps, so they listen to who butters their bread.

The last push to end hunting was about five years ago and at that time Fish and Game held a big public meeting in Morro Bay to discuss it. The Fish and Game rep at the meeting said that hunting would be allowed to continue in Morro Bay, period.

There have been some concessions made, like limits on the number of Brant that can be taken each day (2) and the state parks took over the estuary areas adjacent to South Bay Boulevard and the Elfin Forest where hunters used to set up dry blinds. They were also pushed deeper into the bay and a buffer was set up hugging the shoreline in Baywood and Cuesta by the Sea in Los Osos. They are now limited to a narrow strip of water along the inside of the sandspit, running from just past the State Park Museum nearly to Shark Inlet near Sea Pines golf course. They are not supposed to hunt from the sandspit and must remain in the water. [Editor's Note 11-06.  CA Fish & Game enforcement officers informed us in person that hunters can legally shoot from the sand beach even behind blinds if they are below the high-tide line.]

The Brant Group also put out markers - long plastic poles - in the back bay waters to outline the areas where hunting was allowed and not allowed.  The markers were supposed to act as a warning for kayakers and boaters to keep them from entering a hunting area. And it worked for a while to stem most of the dissent. The last time I was out in the back bay the markers were still there but the signs that were posted on them were either missing or unreadable.

There may also be other hunting regulations pertaining to Morro Bay, like a reduced season and no hunting on the weekends, that sort of thing, but I'm not sure. You'd have to check the F&G regulations book, available at the F&G office in MB next to Carla's Kitchen on Beach Street.  I think I still have a file on the last time the hunting issue was news. It's been pretty quiet for a long time now. I know it irks a lot of people but I've met a lot of the local hunters and many of them are respectable business people, firemen and even sheriff's deputies. I can't believe they would deliberately fire their weapons if there was someone in the way or it was dangerous. If they do, call 911 and report them.

However, it is an open hunting area and any yahoo from anywhere can hunt there with a license and duck stamps. So like the tourism industry, you never know who is driving into town on a given day.

Thankfully, the season is short and bad weather often keeps the hunters off the water.

If anyone wants to see my file on this, I would be happy to oblige. If opposition to the hunting is again organized and rises up, I would naturally cover the story. However, as far as I'm concerned, these hunters are doing nothing illegal and do not warrant an attack from me.

Neil Farrell

P.S. Morro Bay is NOT an official bird sanctuary despite what the sign says on South Bay Boulevard. There is no such thing, according Bud Laurent, the former county supervisor and fish and game biologist. It IS a National and State Estuary and much of it is a state park. But, it is also a wildlife area that the Fish and Game designated a hunting area about 40 or 50 years ago. So there is a big contradiction in the government oversight and the laws. Typical. presents viewer comment on these "morsels" pages without comment or judgment. home morsels page