Refuge in the Fog

Fog surrounded the Morris Island National Wildlife Refuge this morning.  I was alone on the beach walking the wrack line.  Others preferred to stay home in front of warming fires. 

 

Slowly the visibility decreased.  Who doesn't sometimes opt to disappear into an obscuring mist faced with the alternative of confronting the raw reality of prejudice, injustice, and poverty outside of our protected lives.   

 

A few scattered Horned Grebes navigated within this refuge without concern for the troubles of the external world. 

In the darkening afternoon even more dense cloud blankets rolled in from the sea. 

 

One lone fisherman eventually was lost from view. 

 



On returning I chose the inland route, intimidated by the somber grey fog. 

 

So cowed by the leaden cold damp mood of the shore which no longer seemed like a refuge, I left the beach behind, glad to retreat even further from the reality of the world to a warming fire at home.   No medals for heroism would be awarded today.   There is always tomorrow. 

 

Eider on Nauset Marsh before a Storm

On the morning of February 15, before an impending afternoon storm on the Cape I walked north along the spit from Town Cove in Orleans toward Nauset Inlet.  American Black Ducks lounged on the eastern edge of the cove along with groups of Buffleheads and several Red-breasted Mergansers.  The wind blew gently from the east with nippy temperatures just below freezing, the calm before the storm. 

Large loose flocks of Common Eider floated further out on the marsh.  I estimated that they numbered around 350. 

 

I was surprised by a long extended line of these ducks flying in across the spit, circling to land and join the others.  The count was almost too high to estimate, especially when another equally large group followed from the sea.  My guess at a total was a minimum of 600, almost certainly too low.   

 

About two thirds along the spit toward the inlet, I crossed over to the ocean met by a small flock of Sanderlings in their tireless habit of running up and down the beach. 

 

Upon glancing up just beyond the breakers, I saw the source of the Eider migration into the marsh.  Several hundred additional down-warmed ducks were gathered in huge groups offshore. 

 

The total of all the Eider must surely have been well over a thousand, I assume all hunkering down behind the protection of the spit in anticipation of the storm. 

 

A blizzard developed over night with sustained winds of near 40 mph.  The pelting snow blanketed our backyard shed, a beautiful sight the following morning.   

This has been a hard winter on the Cape, the worst in recent memory.  The Eider, however, have managed to find a way to flourish. 

 

February Tramp to Nauset Inlet

 

Nauset Inlet lies about a mile south of the Coast Guard Beach in Eastham, MA.  The inlet can be reached by walking along a narrow spit which separates the ocean from Nauset Marsh.  The beach gets its name from life saving stations that were built in this vicinity beginning in the 1870s and manned for decades thereafter. 

 

The first landfall of the Mayflower was on this shore November 9, 1620 after 65 days at sea.  The pilgrims found a protected anchorage in what is now Provincetown Harbor 2 days later. 

 

On a February day, I walked to the inlet under overcast skies, light southwest winds with a temperature of 30 F.  The tide was very low that grey afternoon, exposing a large sand bar to the north of the inlet. 

There were several male red-breasted mergansers casually cruising just within the inlet.

A curious grey seal eyed the me warily.

 

This harbor seal relaxed on the bank of an island in the marsh, quite far away when I took this shot. 

The marsh on the back side of the barrier beach bears the signs of a cold white winter. 

Some unknown visitors have built a home that would have made Robinson Crusoe proud.  This driftwood leanto sits low in the dunes where pounding seas have recently broken through the barrier beach penetrating into the marsh, near the site where the Outermost House of Henry Beston was claimed by the restless Atlantic during a nor'easter some 40 years ago. 

This fellow with a menacing posture sat patiently for a precious minute while his image was captured.  He appears to be a merlin.

 

I am a lucky man to have the health and time at this stage of life to be able to tramp about in these beautiful spots and feel almost like an innocent youth again although some bittersweet memories gathered along the path of life cannot and will not ever be left behind.     

Wing's Island Winter

 

This island is part of the Cape Cod Museum of Natural History property.  A hiker must cross the marsh over a crude boardwalk to reach the island.  On this January morning, the recently fallen snow was still clinging to the trees and shrubs.  No other humans had yet walked the trails, however, the footsteps of a fox can be seen on the path.

My walk was very quiet and peaceful although the north breeze and freezing temperature caused me not to linger.

Cape Cod is beautiful in all seasons.