40mph wind from the north on Tuesday; 40mph wind from the south tomorrow.
Lovely in between.
Between Storms & Eclipses
To the Inlet
We took the kayaks and paddled to the north inlet on a very calm and pleasant day. More of the north end of the island has eroded away, deposited at the southern end – opening up the north inlet more, but closing off the southern inlet completely.
The island is no longer an island.
Continue reading “To the Inlet”East of the Sun, West of the Moon
The Beaver Moon, a full moon, on the night of a full lunar eclipse. Clear skies, calm winds. A great night to spend on the beach with a toasty bonfire.
Continue reading “East of the Sun, West of the Moon”Gibbous Moon
~ postcards from the road
Island Time
Mobjack Marsh Catting
T and I tagged on to the last couple of days Doug and his family were spending near Mathews on Mobjack Bay. Weather had been iffy all week, and didn’t look very promising for the weekend; but things cleared up after a few storms blew through.
Doug and I took his lovely Marsh Cat out on the last day, with low expectations. If nothing else, we could motor around for an hour and come back. But once we cleared the creek, there was a steady breeze blowing. It was enough to relieve some of the summer heat, and we ended up sailing for hours. So nice, we only came back when we got hungry and thirsty.
Shot a little video on the phones, as I was otherwise unprepared, but came out alright.
Eastern Screech Owls
A family of Screech Owls has been visiting the back yard every evening all week. They come in from the woods as the fireflies rise from the grass, that brief crepuscular window between dusk and dark.
There are two adults and three fledglings. They are fearless. With full faith in their camouflage, which makes them nearly invisible, and pay me no mind as I stand nearby. They swoop overhead to low hanging branches, dive into the grass just a few feet away, then fly back up to feed whatever they’ve caught to the hungry youngsters. Sometimes so close I feel the wind from their wings.
I almost didn’t notice them. There is no sound when they fly. But sitting in the yard watching the fireflies, I kept seeing a random blur in my peripheral vision. It was only when the mockingbirds started raising a ruckus, mobbing something in a tree, that I went to investigate. I stared at the tree and saw nothing. Then one took flight and went over my head.
The name for these birds is a terrible disservice, and truly misleading. They don’t screech at all. There’s only a soft trilling as they chitter to each other. When one does call at night, it’s a musical mournful sound, more like a child lost in the woods, tired and weeping.
