We’ve survived through winter only to be terrorized by spring. The leaky boat we’re all trapped on is maintained by rabid, greedy men who only know how to use a drill.
Snow fell last weekend – temperatures have remained near zero since and much still remains. Ponds are frozen over, and I contemplate what daily life must be like for birds and animals that cannot retreat into warm, lit boxes like ourselves.
The tide was high, and the wind threw the rain and waves carelessly at the beach. Boats tossed on the rough water, my hands already numb from the cold. The on-going flooding of the ponds at Jericho park has grown and snaked to the beach.
I’ve never seen the water reach so far in the years I’ve been visiting. I couldn’t get a photo that captured the reality – I would have needed a drone, or perhaps I should I tried climbing a tree?
Last weekend I felt compelled to return to the Tsawassen Ferry Jetty in search of the Whimbrel that eluded me on my previous visit. As I was making my way up the jetty, I spooked a bird – it was too fast to ID, but it didn’t look familiar and my first (wishful) thought was that it was a Whimbrel.
Nearing the end of the south side of the jetty, I gave up hope of finding the Whimbrel… but not long after that a large shorebird flew in and landed at the edge of the beach – and I don’t have to tell you what that bird was.
I made my way down the slippery embankment of boulders to the beach, slowly and carefully moving toward the Whimbrel, walking out into the water to get the best angle for the low morning sun.
