Such a Rare, Blue Morning – Day 50

It was a sunny winter morning, and I had been photographing eiders along the dock at Wychmere.

I happened to look across the water, and just beyond our roving harbor band of buffleheads I spotted a Great Blue Heron on the opposite shore.

A sucker for a heron (of any shape and size), I hopped in the car and headed to the other side of the harbor for a quick look-see.

When I arrived, there by the corner of the dock stood a Great Blue; backlit by a rising sun that was making his feathers absolutely glow.

And it was clear to me, right from the start, from the look in his eye, that he knew I was there.

Yet he didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he seemed quite content; unusual for a bird that is usually so wary.

So I relaxed too, thrilled for the chance to photograph such a magnificent bird.

And as I shot frame after frame it felt like time was standing still, right there between the two of us.

I wanted to pinch myself, so grateful to be in the presence of such a quiet yet powerful beauty.

I was almost afraid to breathe as the camera clicked away, collecting every detail that time would allow.

At one point the Great flew a few yards to the muddy shoreline.

Still aware of me, yet still in no hurry to go anywhere.

And then it crossed my mind, I wonder if he’s as curious about me as I am about him?

As humans we assume that we are the observers; the wild ones, the observed.

Would it be such a stretch to think that perhaps we share more of a curiosity of one another than we may have imagined?

And wouldn’t that make us more akin, than different?

Just then the Great Blue turned, lifted up those enormous, sun-drenched wings, and sailed away without a sound…

Leaving me with much to ponder.

And a memory that would be with me forever.  ❤


Red Boat Skipper

The other morning at Wychmere Harbor, I got the chance to meet the Skipper of this lovely red boat.

And such a handsome fellow he was, standing there, still as a statue.

It looked as if he’d just finished his breakfast and a good morning’s preening…

As he waited for his Bufflehead crew to arrive.

I didn’t want to get in the way as they prepared to cast off, so I headed on by, smiling as I thought…

My! how I do love the winter here on the Cape.

It gets so quiet, and you just never know who you’re going to meet next!


A Very “Great” Elegance

Sharing a very special visit with a Great Blue Heron that I met recently over at Cockle Cove one early morning.

He was fishing…

In the company of several charming Black Ducks paddling nearby.

The privilege of photographing these birds is an experience like no other for me.

Each time I visit with them holds a different kind of magic.

They can be so graceful, so elegant in their movement…

And even a bit whimsical at times!

I have them to thank for all the magic, and for allowing me to be in their presence.

And I do……   ❤ ❤ ❤

The Magic of Fog

Some people shy away from a rolling fog as it moves in.

Me? I can’t wait to get out into the fog, just to see what kind of magic it has spun — and who might be out and about, like me.

The fog the other morning at Forest Beach was as intense as I’ve ever seen it; everything covered with thick, misty clouds.

Yet while some things seemed to fade from view, some of the fall color seemed more vibrant than ever.

Even the faded-out rosa rugosa hips looked more alive than they had just the day before.

Gazing out to sea, I heard the sound of a fishing boat and could just barely make out the shape of a gull keeping watch on a jettie.

Further up the beach I spotted the red hull of a sunfish, yet the fog over the dunes made it look like the beach disappeared just beyond them.

Many of the plants and bushes along the marsh were covered with diaphanous dew-covered webs.

Intricate in their shapes and patterns, I could picture them as the inspiration for a custom silk fabric.  😉

Even some of the wild berries were covered with the delicate little webs; dew droplets hung heavy from nearby twigs.

As the morning light shone through the webs and dew droplets it made me think of a Christmas tree trimmed with tiny white bulbs and glistening tinsel!

By the time I made it to Cockle Cove, the rising sun was making an all-out effort to break through the fog.

Beautiful blue cedar berries and more dew droplets hung from the boughs of every cedar tree along the creek.

And as I slowly turned my camera further up the creek, I was suddenly startled by the reflection of a great blue heron who was busy fishing!

I smiled as he slowly peered into a shallow pool. He almost seemed to be saying, “Mirror, mirror that I see, who could be any lovelier than me?”

But we were not alone for breakfast, as several black ducks emerged through the mist to join the party.

Quacking softly, as all ducks do.

Meanwhile the sky was brightening. The sunlight was working its magic on the bittersweet along the marsh’s edge.

Nearly every berry seemed to have a tiny dew droplet all its own!

Just then I heard some sker-plashing in the shallow water past the old cedar where I stood.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a pair of black ducks in the mist, moving up the channel with great haste.

Upon closer look, I noticed that the one in the lead was carrying a tiny crab in its beak as he exclaimed, “It’s time for brunch, time for brunch! Don’t be late, it’s time for brunch!”

“Why thank you for the reminder, Little Duck,” I responded.

And although I hated to leave, I had to admit I was a little hungry, too.

I guess all that fog magic had given me quite the appetite!  😉














Come Walk with Me – October 17, 2017

It’s been a while since I posted one of my Forest Beach loop walks with you.

The water was still and calm when I arrived at the beach last evening; the buoys barely moving.

Plenty of other things were moving, though.

I could see an elderly couple up the beach searching for shells, while a pair of adorable long-haired dachsunds were frolicking in the water…

And checking out the tasty treats along the shore.

By the time I got to the backside of the marsh, the golden light was at its peak.

I couldn’t resist a shot of my favorite cut.  😉

A young crow called to me at the top of the hill leading down to Mill Creek.

What is it about crows that always makes me smile?

I do believe he was telling me to Hurry! hurry! Look and see!. Quickly now!

Turning back to the incredible view all I could do was sigh.

I wait all year for the kind of burnt orange colors I see at sunset in the fall there at Mill Creek…

And up at the adjoining Taylor Pond.

Everything is on fire. And if you make it there at just the right moment, it’ll take your breath away for sure.

Just then, I heard an old familiar sound, Crraaawwwk!!

Sure enough, a great blue had just touched down out by the shellfishing buoy markers at the landing.

Slowly wading through the shallow water in the waning light, like some silent movie star…

He paused now and again to check out things that were moving, just beneath the surface.

On my way back up the hill, I had to look back one more time, as I always do.

Soaking in one more glimpse of this beauty to carry me home, I whispered Good Night to all.

Upon my return to Forest Beach, I could see that the sunset curtain had come down there as well.

The dogs had left, the sun had found a pillow somewhere, and the sky had turned from bold blues to dreamy pinks and peaches.

Thank you for joining me on my walk.

‘Til the next time!  😉