I try not to write about the weather, about the wind-whipped rain that soaks the beach sand and forest duff. But all is weather-related. Swollen creeks have already eroded strips of the beach down to rock and gravel. Wind and waves have driven off the waterfowl residents. Only the smallest, the biggest, and the grouchiest birds remain. Aki ignores them all. She doesn’t acknowledge the tiny sparrow that settles briefly on a pilling stump. The little dog sniffs while the kingfisher scolds from an alder limb. She does slip back into the woods when the eagle appears, but if you asked her, she would deny that she saw it.