Pancho and the reclining Guardian of the Malaspina
Many days this time of year Palm Beach is totally human-less, some days a few other folks and their best friends are there enjoying the same meditative and leisurely walk. Every day the wind, tides and waves have re-sculpted the beach anew. Every day the birds and the bees, the flowers and the trees are different, so are we. Every day though rain or shine, windy or calm, high tide or low, its calming effect allows me to remember that the wind and water connects us all.
At the far end of Palm Beach the Eagle River ends its run down from Lois Lake at its estuary and joins the sometimes pacific Malaspina Strait. At all but the highest tides uncountable birds make their living around the estuary. Different species of ducks in the different seasons, resident and itinerant Canadian geese, bald eagles, blue heron, tiny sandpipers, hawks, ravens, crows, hundreds of seagulls and the occasional group of vultures when the shore has salmon caresses or a dead seal washed up make every visit there unique. Many days the roar of the sea lions out at their favorite rocky outcropping past the Stillwater Bluffs is louder than the seagulls or the waves. Occasionally further out in the strait a pod of orcas might be seen enjoying a tasty meal of seal or salmon. Clams of all sorts inhabit the sandy sections, oysters and starfish the rocky bits.
The Malaspina is a small wonderful living part of the greater miracle we are immersed in. The local First Nations call the reclining lady in the picture above The Guardian of the Malaspina. Her silhouette only comes into view down by the estuary. As usual, in the picture she's adorned with seagulls and though it looks like my best friend Pancho is looking out at her in reality it's she who's watching out over us. Some days the seagull poop runs down her cheek just so and she appears to be crying, but every day she abides.
