I was on my way back to San Francisco, a city I lived in for seven years.  I had been in Napa for the weekend, after a wedding in LA Saturday night.  I had just spoken to a friend when I was walking in the Brooklyn Bridge Park and said that it had been a long time since I had been to Muir Woods.  All the turn of the roads came back to me, BUT, I also missed a turn and was headed to Muir Beach.  I said, fuck it and kept going since I had never been.  I walked out to the beach and the beach was strewn with grey and blue "things", looking like part seaweed-type plant or part jellyfish.  Some were grey in color in piles and piles everywhere, at times difficult to navigate a path without them.  The closer I got to the water the fewer they were and the more blue and translucent they were.  I kept walking, but my brain was spinning about what these creatures were.  I stepped on one accidentally.  I did not get stung.  I walked out to the rocks, thinking and thinking, and took my first picture.  I couldn't get these little creatures out of my head and within an instant started shooting the path back to the where I came onto the beach.  I was enamored with the most beautiful olivey green rocks and then rusty colored seaweed with the most incredible geometric shapes all intertwined in the most beautiful of ways.  There was a transition of color, and the closer I got to the beach entrance, the more the blue creatures became part of the mixture.  They started to look like individual art pieces to me, the kind that mother nature created.  I kept shooting away.  Later I researched these creatures.  They float on the ocean surface, en masse, and when wind currents change wash up on shore with death impending.  They are called Velella.