This weekend, Spring began it’s offensive to destroy winter. It’s weapons, above freezing temperatures and heavy rain, have already broken winter’s grip on the beach side forest. Aki still manages to find a twenty foot wide strip of deep snow between forest and high tide line. To celebrate she does a face plant, then rolls in the wet white stuff.
Even though they were safely huddled far away from the little dog, a murder of crows leaves their rich feeding spot on the tidal flats and flies over our heads, throwing out what must be nasty insults in their native tongue. They land down beach and then spread out in a picket line along the water. Are they expecting the seaward arrival of some tasty treats or just want to deny us access to the seashore?
Rather than attack the crows’ position, I lead Aki along the high tide line where we find great patches of ambulance yellow stains in the snow. When the little dog, a connoisseur of urine, ignores them, I look closer and realize that the yellow flows from severed sea weed. My initial disgust turns to wonder that we happened to be present for this bleeding into the snow.