I look at you, Catalina, every day. I am lucky to have the advantage of seeing you float on the Pacific Ocean right in front of me. I have an unobstructed view of you.
You are like a secretive woman. Some days you disappear behind the clouds or the fog. It appears as if the ocean has swallowed you. At times you spread a thin veil over yourself, where I can only see your outline. Then the veil lifts and you are exposing yourself in such clarity that I feel that, if I extended my hand, I could touch you. At such a time, I can see the rock formation on one end of you, and the beige-brown color of the rocks.
At other times you seem far away, as though overnight you have traveled a great distance farther from the shores.
There are days when you, Catalina, are embraced in a blue light.