I took my time this morning on the Outer Point Trail. Aki was a good sport about it. Usually we rush through the forest to the beach. But this morning, with its flat light and graceful snowfall, was one best spent admiring the woods.
A recent rain had washed the forest bare. Snow started falling last night. Thin lines of white cover the tops of exposed limbs and leaning tree trunks. The lines emphasized the gaunt beauty of standing dead pine trees.
Snow coated exposed rocks when we reached the beach. Waves raised by a rising wind curled toward the land. I heard over the sound of the waves, a group of school kids playing on Shaman Island. They had ten minutes to get back to the mainland before the incoming time buries the now exposed causeway.
I returned to the car before finding out whether the kids made it across the spit with dry feet. After lunch, Aki and I headed out the road and walked over a small hill to a little bay. Ours were the first prints on the trail so I expected to find some ducks huddled on the beach when we reached it. We did, but they panicked into flight when we broke out of the woods. Aki refused to leave the trees while I walked to the waterline.
A loon floated on the bay, diving occasionally on bait fish. Then a seal popped up. It swam toward the beach, peering at me like a myopic senior with too much time on her hands. The loon gave the seal a look and returned to his fishing. The seal switched its attention from me to the loon. It started circling the plump bird. When both disappeared beneath the water. I expected to see feathers float up to the surface. But the loon reappeared in good shape. Then the seal surfaced looking for another distraction.