And all of two minds about what I'm doing today. There's a 'wreck' in progress on the outer coast, many birds washing up live and dead, and COASST wants us to go do our surveys soon, so they can try to understand what is causing this mortality event. But I'm in the middle of putting together the next issue of the Santa Fe Poetry Broadside, and (truth) not eager to find myself alone on the beach with 10 or 15 dead birds that have to be recorded properly for science...
Sunrise this morning, nearing the due east point (which from the deck is by the light stanchion at the baseball field two blocks over).
There was lots and lots of action out on Ediz Hook on Friday. The tanker Prisco Zaliv Amerika (flag Cyprus, home port Limassol) came into the harbor escorted by tug, let out her anchor, the pilot boat went over and picked up the pilot, etc. The tug Edward Brusco pulled his barge Paul Bunyan past the Hook and on into Puget Sound (or anyway eastwards). Many many little recreational fishing boats were up to something, tiny boats, families, little kids in life vests, their trailers putting them into the water or pulling them out. Oooh I just love the moment when the trailer is pulled up the ramp, drizzling harbor water onto the roadway as it goes.
A seaplane no bigger than the little boats suddenly landed, taxi'd to the dock, and disgorged a man with a satchel over his shoulder; the plane was already gone before he made it off the dock, though he was walking fast and proceeded right in through the gate of the pilot station. (Where was he fetched from? Why such a rush?)
The sun set already behind Striped Peak on Friday, so no more sun-drops-neatly-into-the-ocean-off-the-Strait for more than six months, eee-too-bad. And I haven't left the house yet, so I guess it's Poetry Broadside today, beach survey tomorrow.
1 comment:
that last photo is stunning. sort of made me gasp aloud. you should frame this one, girl.
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