It was one of those perfectly glorious Cape days. If only time could stop. You want it to, desperately, to capture these magical luminous moments. A southeast breeze ruffled the sparkling silver surface of the bay out of the southeast, the gentle salt wind cool against sun-warmed skin. Scoured white fluffed-up clouds low over the distant horizon signaled continuing fair weather. The marsh grasses have grown tall and dense from meager spring spouts, now a bounty of lush greens this August.
The tide was out and ebbing lower, allowing a slow stroll on the expansive mud flats with North Monomoy almost within reach across the channel. And oh, an abundance of birds, hundreds of semi-palmated sandpipers were busily farming the flats, in a frenzied rush to feed their fill before the turning of the tide. These flocks are only fleeting visitors, preparing for their long journey to South American shores. Who knows how many will survive to enjoy the southern summer? You wish them well and Godspeed on such a perilous trek for fragile little wings.
If only all your friends and loved ones could be here to share this precious day. Thinking of those far away and especially those who are gone forever, brings on a weighty feeling of melancholy, surrounded by all this beauty yet wistful, wishing that time could have stopped not today, but years ago when similar glorious days were shared by all. Godspeed to all present and past friends and loved ones.
