If you've come to enjoy the Cape Ann coastline these last few months, the advent of spring means the end of winter-only pleasures we won't see again until frost re-clarifies the air and prompts Arctic waterfowl to return here for their 'balmy' winter residence. Now, as they begin to pair up for their journey north we have to accept a diminishment along our rocky shores, for there is scarcely any summer contingent of birds to take up their niche.
We'll
have compensations in the uplands, of course, as plants green, as creatures stir, as
daylight lengthens. It will be nice to enjoy shirt-sleeve comfort. But a
certain zest will be missing, and a camaraderie with other adventurers who
sparkle with the freshness of a nippy day.
Morning, looking toward Folly Point
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At the root of our Judeo-Christian tradition is a permissive bequest. H ow this will play out at
contemporary levels of population and technology is an unsettling question. The
Halibut Point landscape has been exempted from further development, but surrounding
forces continue their global ways. An itinerant flock of sandpipers from abroad
stops for refuge.
Purple sandpipers, arriving at Halibut
Point
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In the Beatitudes Jesus called attention to the simple model of creation, centered on a human audience. Today that audience is a greater player with responsibility for continuity of the show, not theologically but ecologically. I t has become a
question not just of relative value but of mutual survival.
Purple sandpipers, "beside the still waters"
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Common eiders - |
Horned grebes - |
Harlequin ducks - |
I walked far down the beach, soothed by the rhythm of the waves, the sun on my bare back and legs, the wind and mist from the spray on my hair. Into the waves and out like a sandpiper. And then home, drenched, drugged, reeling, full to the brim with my day alone.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea, 1955
Evening, Halibut Point |
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