It was a blustery day, so Sam and I decided to follow the track running northwards behind the sand-dunes. Wild creatures often shelter on this eastern side – but today there was no escaping the January winds, which can blow from one or other quarter with sudden ferocity.
We decided to cut through the dunes onto the beach, pausing to inspect an ancient Bearded Heath (Leucopogon parviflorus) of impressive size: an Elder. Each year we come this way, in search of seeds for the Boatshed nursery.
So far I haven’t been able to raise ‘offspring’ from either cuttings or seeds; I will keep trying…
As you can see from the photos, the beach was deserted: not a soul to be seen – north, west, south….not even a gull or tern. The tide was far out, and tiny wavelets showed their flecks of white against the sea-blue.
Always a welcome and healing sight.
Thereafter we turned south along the edge of the Bay (where Silver Mist, Morning Mist, Whimbrel and Gannet began and completed their countless voyages); past the familiar rocks and pools with their special names – and back to the shelter of our old Shack and the Lady Bay Boatshed.
January gales have been especially ferocious this year, but these two structures continue to stand firm. They have solid foundations.
Afterthought: do gulls and terns have souls? I remember Dad declaring that dogs have souls – so why not seabirds?
I feel sure that they have tiny souls, great souls.