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.