I wiped away the weeds & foam. / I fetched my sea-born treasures home... Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thursday, January 26, 2017

January Walk

Hi! The storm has passed and it's a glorious bright blue winter day.

Let's go to the beach and see how it survived the storm. I'll bundle up, it's not as warm as the weather bug wants me to believe, with a 28 mph wind still blowing.

The storm tide came all the way up to the upper dunes! This high swale hasn't held standing water for years, just  briefly during H. Sandy and H. Irene.

The swales serve as natural catch basins, formed by the eternally growing dunes'  ups and downs. They deflect and absorb  waves that would otherwise crash over the  high dunes and seawall.

This is the cut in the outer dunes, where the storm surge breaks through the dunes. It is kept clear on purpose. There is a second outer swale here where the ocean flows first, then on up to the high dunes.

The beach itself is endless and dramatically open, wide. Not much erosion, maybe some in height, but not in width.

Turning back to look at the dunes we can see where the waves came---up into the path where the summer boardwalk lies.

Up to the dunes that protect the swales.

And flooding the low lying beach to the east. It often floods and is the lowest point of this end of our little island. It does have good ancient high dunes though, so the water is stopped during most storms.

Walking along the shore. The sun is till so low in the sky despite it being 1 PM here.

The wineglass is still there on the fence post. A glass now half full.

On the way home I sat for a few minutes and enjoyed the winter bench.

Below the seawall I found this odd conglomeration of  pebbles. They may have been deposited by the storm or maybe they are someone's old collection, set free, returned to their beach origins. [I have found wonderful shell collections like that, with coral branches and pink trimmed tropical shells and starfish. Someone was perhaps decluttering but loved the shells or pebbles enough to send them home?] I chose a few perfect white ''eggs'' ...

for my window sill.

When I got home Mo dragged himself out of bed and insisted we sit on the deck. Our daily dose of vitamin D and mindfulness. (Now that he is a bigger boy and no longer wets the bed, Mo is sometimes allowed to sleep on my bed! Pug heaven!)

I didn't have any applique ready so I brought out my knitting instead. We had a lovely hour. It was 55*.

Tonight is colder, the wind is picking up again, howling and laughing at us:"Fooled ya, didn't I?'', cries Old Man Winter. I'm making meatloaf with steamed cabbage and noodles. Lots of nice leftovers for the weekend to come.True comfort food.



gone to the beach....

PS A nature note: Mr Mockingbird was strutting and singing away in his spot, in the highest branches of the ugly locust tree. He always returns after nesting in the dunes, then spending Fall I know not where. He has been coming at least as long as I've been writing my blog, since 2009. I looked up how long a songbird might live, and though studies are mostly about robins not mockingbirds, it seems that if the birds survive their first couple years they can live as long as 12 to 15 years! And shorebirds [like my oystercatchers!] can live up to 30 years.  So the is probably indeed my same Mr M, and the two cardinal couples I watch in the marsh, and my OCs---they really are the same birds. Amazing to me.