Edgar the eagle returns to his winter perch on the waterfront of Shearwater.
Isn’t it interesting how things work out? It is early on Wednesday morning, the brightening of the day is occurring reluctantly after a very rainy night. My toilet clogged first thing and I’m taking time off from work to resolve the problem. It might become a shitty day. As I returned to the boat after booking out from the job and grim-lipped at the task ahead, I heard something unusual.
A super-high spring tide pushed even higher by the advancing wind of a storm front.
(thanks to the full moon)
I paused and listened. To my delight what I could hear was a chorus of wolves howling. The music drifted down through the timber on the slopes above. A sacred sound to me, it is a terrifying and hellish siren to many who chose to believe the dark myths and embellished lies about wolves. Curse or blessing, that is up to each of us. My point in mentioning any of this personal moment is that had the timing of my movements not been exactly as they were, I would not have heard those uplifting notes. I think that’s pretty cool. Now…Dung ho!
On the note of a wolf howl let me direct my readers to an incredible website. pacificwild.org is how you will find the incredible photography and video work of Ian McAllister and his organization, Pacific Wild. The endeavour is based here on Denny Island and does wonderful work to heighten awareness of the beauty and fragility of the Great Bear Rainforest as this area is known. The stunning images leave me feeling like an amateur photographer and wanting to throw my cameras away in humility. If those photos don’t stir your heart, you’re dead. Stay in your city, zombie!
Seafire hauled up on the hard last weekend for bottom inspection, cleaning, paint touch-up and new zinc anodes. While working on the bowsprit, a humpback whale swam past the docks…always a wonderful sight.
Sunshine, as you can see, becomes a most treasured commodity now that summer is past.
Two days later, the wolves are at it again. Two packs, one on each side of the bay, called back and forth to each other through the morning. The serenade of quavering howls and yodels went on for hours until the cold autumn rain began again. Soon it was pelting down. Its rising roar drowned out the wolves. I imagine them snuggled up together under a thick cedar tree, warm, dry and loved. Yes, even wolves are very capable of great love.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if we cuddled up.”
“Wot? We’re eagles!”
This is a short blog. I’ll be away south taking care of business but I’ll be back to my beloved Seafire as soon as possible to see where the universe might lead me. Here’s a short piece I wrote the other morning just before the wolf songs began.
Rising
When I awoke this morning
in the dark before the dawn
the sky was cloudless after days of storm.
High in the east two stars rose
side by side, newly joined
bright, equal, clear
it was all I needed to know.
_______________________________________________________
(Then, to my chagrin, I later learn that one of those stars is in fact a Russian space station.)
Sea And Fog
Sea and fog…water silently becoming air…air silently becoming water.
…Ray Grigg, The Tao Of Sailing
I remember seeing Edgar on that same perch when we were there. But we weren’t treated to any wolf serenade, much as I would have loved to hear one! Enjoyed the post, Fred, and the photos. Stay warm and dry! The monsoons have begun here.
Cheers Laurie. Only seven months until summer! Fred