radar, twisting roots and dams of mud, fresh water flows over smooth and jagged rocks, life dripping life around us as we slosh down the soupy path toward the beach. this, the place which may have first sparked a coveted return. where in april we sat in the sun and sand, disconnected from the busy world east of us, with more than just a thick forest and jutting hill guarding us from its existence, backs turned, facing west, south west. watching oystercatchers glide across the bay, this the only place I have ever seen one.
and again, today, we watched them cautiously fly from one sheltered point to another, avoiding the crashing surf and short spats of rain. yes, there was a storm, raging, somewhere, but we were seeing spots of blue sneaking from behind the clouds and as we ate our sandwiches on the rocks, watching a small seal flounder in the waves, the sun even attempted to shine on us.
now as I listen to the wind which has picked up the rain and begun to throw it about, now these sounds which keep us indoors, they make me smile, for they've taken the night, but given us the day.