This morning dawned cool and wet.
Thunderstorms yesterday afternoon settled into showers overnight, pushed out to sea by the cold front sweeping towards us.
What a welcome change from the heavy hot air of the past few days!
A beautiful morning to walk down to the creek, I ventured out with clippers in one hand, camera in the other, to see what could be seen.
Low grey skies promised more rain at any moment, and droplets of water clung to every leaf and stem along the way.
Good weather for mosses and ferns, and people who need a break from summer’s heat!
I was surprised to find the tide so low this morning.
The area around the dock was muddy, with shallow pools filled with little fish.
The bottom of the creek was clearly visible for a long ways in every direction, showing the roots of plants growing from the mud flats.
At one time, years ago, this creek was navigable.
Boats could access the dock . But silt continues to fill the creek.
The tide must be high to float a boat anywhere near the dock these days.
I was struck by the still silence this morning.
No eagles called out from the sky. Aside from dragonflies, no wings filled the air.
It felt as though the whole world were holding its breath waiting for something.
A moment of peace, while walking to the end of the dock; looking back at the shoreline, unfamiliar now in its exposed low-tide aspect.
Perhaps not to be seen again anytime soon,either.
I studied the muddy bottom to see what might be learned about this bit of shoreline.
Aside from a broken turtle shell, and the madly flopping fish, no living thing showed itself.
Not a crab or frog, snake or bird to be seen, anywhere, for as far as I could see in any direction.
And so I began the long climb home, away from the empty creek.
The garden awaited, still soggy but in need of a “walk about.”
And that is another story.
Photos by Woodland Gnome 2014