Aki is having a Goldilocks’ moment. The snow on this trail is just right—not deep, not crusty. Just the stuff for rolling in. Last night’s high tide trimmed the edge of Aki’s snow pack. I can walk on frozen sand while the little dog runs full bore in the snow. 

            We have sun but feel little of its warmth because of the wind. It blows at a steady clip from the south. A small clutch of mallards hug the north face of a gravel island where the wind can’t chill them. One drake, with its metallic-green head works to separate a mussel from its purple shell. 

             A thin skim of sea ice lays broken over sea grass stubble. It crunches under Aki’s paws after she leaves the snow and follows me over an icy covered stretch of beach. She’d rather be back in her little snow belt. But as my self-appointed protector, she places my safety first. I, who spend most of the time scanning for hovering eagles that could carry her off, see our relationship as one based on mutual assistance. 

We have been here before. Me, wandering onto questionable ice; Aki waiting at the ice edge waiting for me to come to my senses. Her lack of trust once would have bothered me. But after seeing a new crack in the pond I smile and turn back to join her. The little poodle-mix has a sled dog’s distrust of ice. She also has a lead dog’s loyalty. She would have followed me across the beaver pond ice if I had continued. 

After our retreat, we head down an ice covered trail to the Outer Point Beach. Thanks to my industrial grade ice cleats, I can walk without slipping. Aki must take more care. But she has a sled dog’s skill at changing gait and speed to keep from falling. 

            Two harbor seals watch us walk onto the beach. An eagle flies across the mouth of Peterson Creek. After I raise my camera the big predator makes a course correction and returns to its roosting tree. The seals disappear. I can almost hear a nearby raft of golden eye ducks breathe a collective sigh of relief.