The ups and downs of suns and tides

Tuesday:

The day began at 5:00 AM. Oliver stood up in his crate, gave himself a shake, and let out the soft little sneeze he uses to tell me he would like out. Charley came running into the bedroom and pawed my covers, her way of ensuring I know one of her canine siblings is in need of help. I groaned, not quite ready to get up, but I am my dogs’ servant and so I dutifully rolled out of bed, stumbled to the back door for a leash with which to guide 'can’t-see-in-the-dark' Oliver, creakily squatted down to open the door to Oli’s crate, fumbled with arthritic morning fingers to attach the leash, and headed outside.

The brisk morning air soon woke me and by 5:30 early morning meds were given and coffee was brewing. Checked the emails, turned on the news, showered, pulled on some clothes, fed the dogs, and headed back outside with the pack for their morning constitutional.

It's nearly seven o’clock. And I see this:



Ohhhh….it is going to be a beautiful sunrise. I have a busy day ahead, so decide to take Oliver for the first walk as he will need to go back in the crate when I leave for an appointment. Can we make it to the beach a block away before sunrise dissipates into full morning light?

There’s an interesting phenomena I have observed in the early mornings. A bright morning first light often fades back into deeper shades of dusky dawn before the sun fully emerges. And so when we reached the top of the small hill to the seawalk, we were back to grey-blue tones with hints of rose.







As we wandered the seawalk, and then the beach, Mother Nature’s rosy cheeks began to pale as gold and yellow and shades of wheat emerged.








As daylight fully exposed herself, we headed back home. Ironically, the beautiful sunrise did not foretell of a beautiful day, and within the hour it was overcast with no sign of the sun that had awakened my world.

It was not until later in the afternoon that I returned to the beach, this time with Sadie and Charley. The cloud cover had lightened a bit and one could just make out the lighter patches where sun was sliding behind Maple Mountain.

It was low tide now, and the seabirds were feasting on the clams and oysters and other sweet sea treats left behind by the departing water. Finally, I got a fairly clear photo of an oyster catcher – that comical bird that I think of as a crow impersonating a clown, bright orange beak far too big for the crow-like body.




The gulls were also present, of course. I played around with the focus on my camera to capture this gull who seems to be perched in front of a watercolour painting:



….and promptly forgot to change it back when I no longer wanted the background blurred:





The most fascinating aspect of the beach today was the high tide/low tide comparison. At high tide this morning, the five or six foot high posts of a long-ago wharf are not visible,




whereas at low tide, they are a prominent feature of this stretch of beach.




At high tide, the final flight of steps to the beach (and part of the penultimate flight) are covered with water.






Low tide reveals a huge log has drifted between the rails of the lower flight. Will it float on through with the next high tide, or will manual help be needed to remove the 50 foot obstruction before the stairs themselves are damaged?







And the berm to the wharf near the RV park is completely covered at high tide,while easily traversed at low tide. In the afternoon, at low tide, I watched as some anglers prepared to go to sea, the bright bouys adding colour to their boat.






The anglers, however, were not bright boys – they left their truck and trailer on the berm, preventing other anglers from launching their boats.



Perhaps by the time they return Mother Nature will have had her revenge, for the vehicle was well placed to be carried away with the next high tide!




Ever changing sea. Ever changing beach. Ever changing life.