2.5.2003
Even though the last couple of days have seen weather in the thirties and forties, overall it's been a mild winter. The acacia trees are in splashy bloom all over town, and camelias, lilies, oleander and daffodils are popping up and blooming everywhere.
It's chilly at the cabin. I leave for the morning walk wearing a couple of sweaters, an ear wrap, mittens and a jacket. But either way I walk -- up into the surrounding neighborhood, or down the path to the beach -- I'm soon peeling off layers . Yesterday I ran into a man wearing a t-shirt, while I looked like I'd just stepped off the ski slopes, although dressed in hand-me-down mismatched winter-wear rather than the sleek fashion of the skier.
Today some engine sounds scared my dog and she returned home while I trundled on to the beach by myself. I scare fewer birds than she does, and spend more time being still than I can with her. Three times, I dropped to my knees in the sand and watched through my binoculars.
First, twenty or so Cormorants came swimming out of Oyster Cove. I dropped to watch. They were busy. Unlike the nearby Buffleheads and Scaups who were placidly meandering nearby, the Cormorants were a bundle of hyperactive movements. One would rear up, another would fan its wings, then one finally got up the momentum to fly: first lifting its wings back in a bent-back half-extended position and holding that for a moment, then like a rubber band upon release in a jettison of moves the wings extended fully and began to flap, the Cormorant seemed to run across the top of the water for twenty feet or so of labored flapping until its efforts finally culminated in flight. One after another the Cormorants took off like this -- the first Cormorants flight made the flight of the rest inevitable.
One they'd gone I peered around the bend to see a snowy egret in Oyster Cove. I don't see them over here too often, they're usually on the other side of the bay where it's marshy.
Lastly, I looked for the Blue Heron. Not at the end of the pier, so I looked up into the trees and dropped when I saw him perched high in a tree up the hill. Fluffed up against the cold, he looked like he'd just woken up.
The water is electric blue and still. The beach is warm and the water calls to me.
I finally took a paddle Sunday and I'm hoping to get out more often now. I'm hoping to head out towards the mouth to see what I can see.
posted by Lisa Thompson on 10:09 AM link | comments []
Copyright 2003 Lisa Thompson. All Rights Reserved.
