Last night a skim of ice formed on top of the pond water. Then the tide ebbs, dropping the paper-thin ice onto the Fish Creek trail. It shatters under Aki’s paws as she walks toward the creek mouth. The ice tinkles as it shatters, like a windblown crystal chandelier. The dining room sound is out of place on the icy trail. More expected is the eagle complaints and the shower of fat snowflakes soaking into Aki’s fur.
I don’t expect much drama today. It’s low tide so we would have to cross a wide stretch of empty wetland to reach the waters of Fritz Cove. That’s where the ducks hang out and at least two bald eagles. Snow clouds obscure the glacier and surrounding mountains as we near the creek mouth. But, as we turn back to the trailhead, the clouds thin. Weak sunlight strikes the mountains, giving them a pearlescent glow. Then the clouds return.