There’ll be no walk tonight as I listen to the rain on the roof, the cars splish-splashing through the puddles.
But last night my walk was something truly special.
The magic began as soon as I drove past the Red River on my way to the parking lot.
And there he was, all hunched up, soaking in the last rays on this last day of November.
We call him Harry, one of our beloved Great Blues, his smokey blue charcoal-and-black feathers a stark contrast to the marsh grass that frames him this time of year.
Heading back to the car, I couldn’t help but notice these two characters.
I could hear the youngster prodding the older one, saying, “Hurry up! Hurry up! I just KNOW she has French Fries”.
But the older, wiser gull knows me better than that.
Nope! There’d be no French Fries getting tossed from my car.
Just someone who’d coo to him, soft and sweet, and tell him, “Oh, my, what a pretty bird”.
Not something a guy hears everyday. Especially a seagull kinda’ guy.
Still, a guy’s gotta’ eat, and he gave me the feathery eyeball, nonetheless.
I drove on with anticipation to Forest Beach marsh and the glorious panorama that awaited me there.
One of our Canadian sentries was alert and on duty, telling me that all was well in the marsh tonight.
This was my favorite kind of autumn evening.
Those smokey clouds in the autumn sky, the setting sun bathing everything in a golden glow as it bid the day adieu.
It’s truly remarkable that, no matter how many times I make that walk down to the shore and stand there gazing out at the sea toward Chatham Light, it’s like it’s the very first time.
And all I want to do is stay there forever and ever and just breathe….
But I wasn’t alone in my reverie.
I could see two lovely ladies on the jettie who were enjoying the day’s end, just like me.
We chatted a bit, as girls do.
One insisted on giving me her advice on the very best way to keep your beak warm when the chill evening breezes blow in off the water.
I could not thank her enough.
I passed by Forest Beach marsh from the other side, and looking away out I saw my favorite cutaway, bereft this time of year of summertime dinghies, glowing warm in the sun.
I stopped long enough to chat with these fellas. The Three Amigos, clearly enjoying their Boys’ Night Out!
And heading past several houses already twinkling with Christmas lights, I met this friendly codfish who was telling me I’d better pick up my step if I was going to make it to my final stop before dark.
I heeded his warning and before I knew it I was there…
At the Landing.
A place that always feels somehow like my destination. The place where I take that deepest of breaths and let the days’ cares lift up and float away.
And as I headed home I was already dreaming of the beauty that lay just over the hill and around the corner.
Thanks for visiting me again here at Images of Cape Cod.
‘Til next time, be well.