Water Lily

Walking east this morning I ventured to the wetland portion of our bay and I was happy to find
this water lily in full bloom.
Often thought of as an invasive plant in waterways I find them peaceful to look at and a beneficial
part of nature as they provide cover for the small fish hatchlings that need to hide from their larger brethren.
The French artist Claude Monet was particularly fascinated by water lilies and painted them often during his lifetime.
Nature always seems to offer up something to enjoy on my walks.

The Common Tern

Walking early this almost cloudless morning I find myself admiring a group of Common Terns
at the harbour entrance. They are a beautiful bird with long slender wings and a forked tail.
I watch several flying head down and, displaying remarkable eyesight, drop vertically from
about thirty feet into the water to emerge seconds later with a minnow firmly clutched in their
beaks. They then fly close to the water to feed their almost grown young waiting at the breakwater.
After a brief rest they are off again to repeat the process before the minnow school moves on.

Fog

Walking this foggy morning is a different experience. The harbour is still, shorebirds are
clustered together and no waves lap the beach. I see no one else this morning on my walk
yet it is an enjoyable feeling to stroll in a slightly out of focus and muffled world. Even the
gulls are muted. The fog isolates us in silence. Out of the gloom comes a chirping birdcall.
A cheerful sparrow is busily about his business of hunting for breakfast.
Brightened, I return for mine.

Simple Pleasures

Life's simpler pleasures abound during an early morning beach walk.
Sitting on a rock, a Mourning Dove is not a specimen to be recorded in a birdwatcher's journal but it is a pleasing bird to watch and listen to for a while.
Farther on, lilacs in full bloom please several senses with their colour and perfume.
I find it entertaining to look at such commonplace things that make up the whole of our surroundings.
Discovering their innate charm is a blessing often overlooked.

 

Silence

Silence is one of a beach walk's many gifts.
With the exception of the faint sounds of a passing boat, the cries of shorebirds and the babble of wavelets, acceptable natural sounds, there is peaceful silence today.

The philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote that if he were a doctor and could prescribe only one
remedy, it would be silence.

A brief respite from the world's daily clamour is a healthy tonic.
I recommend daily doses.

Doing Nothing

The thought of spending even a few minutes simply doing nothing is an alien experience for
many. The work ethic by which we live tells us to stay busy and be productive.
There is much to be said for doing nothing from time to time.
But are we really doing nothing?
Merely sitting, relaxing, watching the shorebirds, hearing the waves and feeling the wind and
the warm sun on your face is a wonderful input to the senses.
Pardon my sitting here on the seawall doing nothing for a while.

Spring, The Wetlands

Even as the first green cattail shoots appear the Red Wing Blackbirds have returned to our bay.
One of the earliest and most populous migratory birds, the Red Wing Blackbird nests in the
wetlands and provides early colour and sound to today's walk. Being omnivorous, they are content to feed on insects and seeds equally. The male is colourful and easily spotted by listening
for their distinct mating call. The female is harder to find. She is smaller and drab in comparison
to better blend in during nesting. I was happy to catch this fellow in full song.

A Sign of Spring

A wonderful day for a walk and the beach revealed several signs of spring. I noticed that the
trees are in full bud, especially the Lilacs, so it will not be long before leaves appear.
A Cormorant caught what appeared to be a larger fish than he could handle. I watched while he made repeated dives trying to reposition the fish until finally he was able to flip it up and swallow it. His angling skills were far better than the several early fishermen I encountered today.
Walking home along the beach road I came across a blooming group of Colt's Foot.
Often mistaken for Dandelions, the Colt's Foot is a spring flower that turns into a ground covering vine in summer. They bloom before their leaves appear and I was very happy to see it.
It was the first wildflower of this year that I have encountered on the beach.

The Ring Billed Gull

I did not even get off the dock for my walk today when I came across a Ring Billed Gull
just standing, watching the world and enjoying the spring sun.
A sure sign of spring is the crisp whites of it's mating plumage, something that takes 3 years to
come in fully for this species. I wondered if he is one of our permanent residents or one that
migrates from the Gulf of Mexico to the Great lakes annually. Both are plentiful here.
They are the custodians of our beach, cleaning up any dead or dying small fish that come ashore.
They are also not above stealing your sandwich if the opportunity presents itself.
I did not disturb him as I moved past and we both enjoyed the beach, each in our own way.

Routine

On a windy day a walk along the shoreline separates me from my normal routine. I become
immersed in a different world, one in which time is measured, not by a clock, but by other things.
The cadence of waves, grains of sand slipping through fingers, the measured beats of a gull's
wings all attune me to the present and yet also lead me to reflect that this is the way things actually are and the way they have been since the very beginning.

Cormorants

from July 2014

Walking north today I come to the city park on our bay, not my usual destination but I wanted to see the progress they were making on the improvements to our entrance channel and vary my routine a bit.
I spied two Cormorants perched on some offshore posts. Despised by fishermen who feel that they ravage the baitfish stocks I find them a visually pleasing bird as they rest on the pilings, sometimes spreading their wings to dry in the sun.
The shapely silhouette of a Cormorant with long neck and slightly uplifted head and bill gives one the feel of the Orient, a classic presence painted on silk, more an icon of the far east than a summer visitor to our bay.
Rested, the Cormorants drop into the water to continue a day of underwater fishing.

A Cuban Beach

 

I had a break from the Canadian Winter and a chance to walk a beach on
The Isle of Pines, Cuba's largest Island other than Cuba itself. Behind me are a lot of tourists
yet facing southeast it was unspoiled. At low tide the two wrack lines of the previous high tides are visible.
The bottom was white coral sand untouched and smooth. It was a joy to walk here away from the crowds. Imagine the millions of sea creatures, shells and coral that, pounded by the waves of centuries, have been crushed to the fine grains seen here.

Close up you can see the coral and shells slowly being turned to sand by the clear waters of the
Caribbean. My footprints were the only ones here and soon the tide will erase them as well.
Walking back I chose the vegetation line and discovered some of the local flowers, which I cannot name but enjoyed immensely just for the opportunity to view them.

Too soon it seems, the horn sounds to return to the ship and this beautiful beach will again be deserted. Or will it? Only man will be gone, leaving the coral, flowers, shells and seabirds to their natural habitat as it has been for hundreds of years. As I walked back a Grey Pelican followed me as if to make sure that all of us left his domain as it was before we intruded.

What a wonderful day for a Beach Walk.






                                       

Boats and a Beach Walk

                                          Photo: S E Ingraham, by permission.
From my journals, October 2013
Living on a Boat is many things that one does not see in the glossy magazine ads. A lot of work is involved keeping my home shipshape and one must always be preparing for the future.
With winter on the horizon, one of those items is to fill my diesel tanks for heating and emergency generator use should the power go out in mid winter. There is no fuel available in our Bay so a pleasant 9 mile cruise to the west brings me to Bluffers Park and the Marina there. I was their only customer that beautiful midweek Autumn day and they were happy to see my 1000 litre fill.
I used this opportunity to revisit a beach I have not walked since my youth.
There have been many changes in my half century of absence and I struggled to see past the stone and concrete of now to view the undeveloped shoreline of my early years.
The fine road down to the marina was once a ravine we had to traverse to steal apples from the orchard in the seminary. It then became a garbage dump to lay the foundations for the road and eventual marina. We would climb down there in the spring with smelt nets and lanterns during the smelt run. Memories of bonfires on the beach, friends from that time and the carefree joy of youth flooded back but I could only guess at the locations we used in those days. The marina development has erased almost all the old features.
Walking east brought me to more familiar views and a lesser impact from recent development.
Here the Bluffs are at their highest and I recognised the paths where I and my friends would climb down to spend the day. One of my best friends had a home that backed to the highest point yet it had a good path to the shore. This was our normal route to the beach.
Walking further, I came to the area of the home where I grew up, not visible from where I was at the top of the Bluffs but still recognisable in my memories.
I looked for the wreck of the Alexandria , a paddle steamer that was driven ashore a century past, but new shoreline works have removed all traces.
Nothing remains the same.
And some things never change.
The waves still kiss the shore and the beach goes on.
Walking back to my boat I reflect on those times. The responsibilities of adulthood had yet to impact our lives and our only duty to the day was to be home before the street lights came on.
I wonder what the youth of today would see on this beach if they would only take a moment to lift their eyes from their texting and look at the majesty surrounding them.
I truly enjoyed this day and my walk on this beach.
I enjoyed my memories.

An Icicle Kiss

The deep cold that has invaded from the north has frozen the lake far out by night and
wave action has made icicles on the pilings. A small wind by day is enough to break this
ice cover up into plate sized sheets and pile it at the shore.

The poet Lonnie Hicks wrote in "An Icicle Kiss" that icicles are the winter's flowers.
He might well have described today's frigid beach which, despite the cold and dark clouds
to the east, presents a stark beauty here. A small patch of sunlight breaking through to the west
lights up this canvas.
The simplicity is beyond words.

Pondering winter's artistry, I decide that today's walk shall be a brief one.

Losing a Friend

No beach walk today, it is cold and snow squalls are forecast.
Instead, I ponder the loss of a friend.
Marinus was a tall soft spoken Dutchman and a member of our Yacht Club for many years.
A Veterinarian, he had a gentle manner and a ready smile for all. He loved his wife and family
and they shared his love of sailing in return.
I never saw him in a bad mood and he was always there to lend a hand when needed.
In his 70's he still skied, played hockey and was looking forward to a summer of sailing.
A Swallow built a nest on my anchor one year and Marinus would climb up to the bow to check on the young and try to guess how many days remained before I could move the boat. Neither he nor I wanted to interrupt the little lady until her young had flown.
He was a truly happy man in a world where few are as content as he.

Fair Winds Marinus.

We will miss you.

Beaver Tales

A beaver has been busy around the docks lately.
His home is at the north end of our bay and the ice is thick up there right now.
Perhaps hunger has driven him down here as a 4 inch thick poplar was cut down by
him on the beach a few days ago. Only the stump and a few chips remain and there
is no sign of the rest of it. Typically a beaver will cut this up into manageable chunks
and stick them in the bottom mud for later snacking. I don't know how long this will
sustain a beaver so I watch for other stumps to appear on my walks.
As in past years, I know there will be a lot of floating branches, with every bit of bark
removed, floating in the bay when the ice goes out in a few weeks.
A beaver must keep busy to survive.

Snowy Owl

 

                                  

From March 2014



Owl hunts small rabbit
beach grasses give good cover
blood drips on ice

 

Age

From December 1 2012

The first day of the last month of the year and I am walking on the bay side of the west spit today.
It is a nicer walk than the lake side in this weather.
The wind is blowing sand on the beach.
The waves are pounding in from the southeast.
It is cold, a foretelling of winter to come.
At the western end of the bay is a protected area of marsh, brush and cattails.
A pleasant place on a warm summer day and nesting grounds for many species of birds.
Here stands a lone Great Blue Heron at the waters edge.
As his fellows have headed south over 4 weeks ago one wonders if this one is injured, sick or
simply too old to make the journey and has chosen to spend his remaining time here at the bay.
Nature makes no concessions in the grand scheme of life.

The West Spit

From September 2012

I walked the western spit of our bay today. Here it is far more natural than it's eastern cousin.
It is a barrier bar though some effort to anchor it with grasses seems to be having good effect.
The sand is fine with fewer pebbles, some significant driftwood and very few people ever use
this beach. I love to walk here and enjoy the waves and solitude. It is a clear day and everything is just a little sharper, the colours a little brighter as fall approaches.
As I walk today my mind lags behind, about 15 years, to when I lived on the northeast corner of
this bay and had a wonderful schnauzer named Colonel. Twice a day I would walk him here in the summer. We had a dock in the back yard and travelled here by dinghy. Landing on the inside, he was out and running for the beach before I could tilt the motor up, heading to the sand.
I would walk, he would run and I was always vigilant as he would like nothing better than to roll on a dead carp. Perfume in his mind and a bathing chore in mine.
I never figured out which part of our daily routine he enjoyed more, the run on the beach or the ride there and back in the dinghy, for I had only to say "boat" and he was right back in the dinghy, panting, wet and sandy, but excited about the ride back home.
Sadly, Colonel is long gone but the memories of those days are sharp and I enjoy them still on a quiet sunny day like today.
For the beach is still here and the waves still come ashore as I walk and enjoy the moment.

Gray

Gray Sky.
Gray Water.
The Harbour Entrance is still.
Sleeping now.
In eight short weeks it will awaken.
It is quite a workout to walk to here on the beach.
The snow is deep.
My footprints show dirty snow under last nights fresh fall.
The wind never sleeps.
It is constantly rearranging the sand on the beach.
The warmth of spring will reveal the changes.
Waiting.

Rambling

From my journal June 2013

Sometimes when I walk the beach my mind is on a different journey.
It is a place to think about the day or dream of the future but most often to
reflect upon the past, of roads not taken and the ones I have travelled.
I recall people I have known, happy events, friends and yes, opportunities lost.
Sometimes the memories are simply mundane and serve to hold the rest together
as a whole. Often they are simply a reflection of life lived well without regret.

F. Scott Fitzgerald expressed it well in the last line of The Great Gatsby,
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

Canada Geese

God must love Canada Geese because he made so many of them.
Years back we would see them winging their way south in gigantic Vees, landing in the bay
and moving on the next morning. It was the first harbinger of the fall as was their journey north
one of the first signs of spring.
Today they seem to have become lazy or acclimatised to our weather. Many do not migrate
and spend their lives near our bay. Perhaps our local population no longer has the instincts of
their ancestors and perhaps it is the legacy of milder winters, more available food and protection
from hunting in our area. Whatever the reason, they seem to be here to stay and to the point that
even the most ardent tree hugger has to have some misgivings.
In summer they are very aggressive when you approach their nests or young and they nest everywhere. They invade lawns, terrorize small dogs and their droppings are everywhere.
But it is the winter where the problem is most noticeable. They spend all their time on the ice or the small area of open water near the harbour entrance save for their twice daily pilgrimage to the corn fields north of us where they feed on the leftovers of the harvest.
As an adult goose can relieve itself of up to 3 pounds of droppings per day and it is estimated that by the end of winter there will be over 100 tons of goose poop sitting on the ice.
The next time you visit the beach please refrain from bringing bread with you to feed the geese, especially if you are coming down to let your children play in the water.

cocoon

Winter Chrysalis
The warm breath of springtime
White butterfly wings

Sleeping Swans

On the ice swans sleep
Too thin to bear my step
Another day ends

On a cold day

Wave crash on cold shore
Sleeping Lilac, Bitter wind
Await the spring sun.

Winter

The Beach is deserted on my walk today. A soft and thick snowfall yesterday was quickly followed by arctic air that froze the lake out several hundred yards. Today the swells from the southeast have broken this into millions of small pieces and their music is an enchanting addition to the normal sounds of water reaching to the shore. Tomorrow will be different yet again. And I will be on the beach. Discovering new pleasures and finding peace.

The Girl in the Tree

From July 2013

I turned east today on my beach walk, a direction I seldom take as it is more manufactured park
than natural beach but it does lead to better things if one perseveres.
I walked on the Boardwalk which is neither board nor do many actually walk.
I was passed by many joggers puffing their way to their eventual knee and hip surgeries.
Decked out in the latest spandex, wires dangling from their ears, sucking water bottles and
grimacing with effort while checking their pulse.
Why are you here?
Did you not see the flowers, do you not feel the wonder of the woods?
Did you not see the Great Blue Heron standing in the shallows?
Did you see the Girl in the Tree?

A Dinghy "Walk"

From August 2014
No walk on the beach today.
I am at the Toronto Islands on the boat for the weekend and the beach there is
not one of my favorites being clothing optional.
I am not a prude but some behaviors are best left to others.
Instead, I took the dinghy and puttered through the canals to Wards Island where
some folk still cling to the few homes spared from demolition by those who would
turn it all into the ersatz parkland of concrete benches and manicured grass.
There is a little bridge where you must duck your head to get under and then you are
in another world where time stood still and the developers have not intruded.
The water is clear, weeds hide fish, turtles sleep on logs and the sun peeks through
the leaves of tall trees. Soon, too soon, I approach the older homes that remain from
an earlier time. There is an old dock and I spy a Snowy Egret with lunch in his beak.

Though the rest of my quiet ride is enjoyable, the sighting of the Egret makes my day
memorable.

A Beach Walk

from may 2014
There are many things to do while beach walking,,,,look at birds, study the sand, view clouds and boats on the horizon. But, in the midst of it all this activity, frequently the most important thing is to do nothing. Sit for awhile on a bench; delight in the day's beauty, the breeze, the sunshine and how lucky you are to be here now. I forget for the moment the frenetic bustle of life and delight in the sound of waves, the wind and enjoy only the moment.

 Walking the beach has always restored my mind and my soul.

Beach Glass

From May 2014

It was cloudy and dark walking the beach today and the wind off the lake was chill. One bright spot of sunshine though was that my granddaughter walked with me today. We looked for beach glass, those remnants of long ago beach parties when we carelessly tossed bottles and thought not of tomorrow. Today those shards have been tumbled by the surf, sometimes for decades, until they are now frosted pebbles in green, brown and clear.
We found a few today of each colour, and I enjoyed her thrill of discovery, but the rare aquamarine of early Coca Cola bottles and the rarer blue of Noxema jars eluded us.
They are hiding there, on the beach, for another day and another walk.

The Black Swan

From my journal November 2013

I walked the West Spit today.
Most of the leaves are gone and the wind carries a hint of winter to come.
The last of the migratory birds are passing through and soon we will have
only those that have adapted to winter here. The swans are amongst those
that winter over in our bay. Their numbers are swollen by others that come
here from nearby harbours less winter friendly. Mute Swans with their bulbous
noses and the elegant Whistling Swan are both here to winter over.
Today I spot a rarity, a Black Swan is amongst the group of almost fifty.
They are native to Australia and the Indian Ocean so I can only surmise that this one
is an escapee from a zoo or private pond. The others keep him away from the main
pack yet he stays as close as possible, cautiously seeking company.
Nature is cruel, he will not be accepted.
I hope he enjoys his taste of freedom for I doubt that he will adapt to the cold
nor learn to forage before he is too weak to survive.