Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Sighting


Today is the first anniversary of the day we took legal possession of the Captain’s House. The tide was high this morning when we got up. As I was performing the daily ritual of morning stretches, I glanced out and saw a seal swimming lazily off our shore. But in the distance I noticed something else. It was a large creature cresting and diving repeatedly further out in the water. I watched transfixed. It had a fin. 
Back and forth it came for a very long time. I suspect it was our first sighting of a dolphin. We have heard they do appear from time to time. Of course, when I finally went to get my camera and had it at the ready, I stood on our deck for a very long time in the cool breeze. I hoped that I might catch it in the lens. Eventually I did. But it was not one of its more fulsome arches. And it appears but a speck in the resulting photo. I waited… and waited. An eagle flew by.

Sunday, April 28, 2019

Awakening


When one returns home after a long absence, it is often with some apprehension. But to walk back into our home was to walk in as if we had just gone down the street to pick up our mail. Home is home after all. Of course, we had left things in the more than caring hands of a friend and neighbour.
However, we thought we might be coming home to an early spring. That was not to be. Temperatures were cooler than we had expected and the greening had not taken place. We even were the recipients of a last lingering snowfall. But despite cool temperatures, we were teased by the occasional warming rays of the sun. Then days of rain – relentless rain.
Eventually, however, the greening crept forth. The forsythia started to bloom in quick pursuit of the pussy willows and snowdrops. And now the daffodils, which had been reluctant at first, have shot up with buds at the ready. Even the shrubs I had planted last spring, and which appeared so forlorn, have started to send out new shoots and buds. Spring cannot be held back for long.
Meanwhile, we have watched the rising and falling of the tide from the comfort of the fireside. And we have seen the loons and ducks and geese – and the gulls of course. And the other day we watched two seals appear from their winter absence and lounge contentedly off our shore. The heron has been heard. We have even seen it fly in the distance but it has yet to make its daily strut across our beach: Our proud sentinel.
And our ever-changing view of the dapple coloured hills across the bay and the cluster of historic multi-coloured matchbox houses that sit brazenly on the opposite shore are always a source of meditation: the fog, the mist, the clouds, the sky, the sea air.
But best of all, the eagles have reappeared. One recent morning an eagle perched defiantly on a large rock at our shore. It stayed there for a very long time. As it looked slowly about, judging its surroundings, it peered up at the house. All the while several gulls shrieked and swooped irritably above its crown.
All seems well.