Sunday, January 18, 2009
We went to Westham Island this morning, our first trip to the Reifel Migratory Bird Sanctuary since October. As has been the pattern for the past week or more, we were heavily socked in by fog in the morning, which was forecasted to dissipate in the afternoon--although we all know by now that it never does.
The Parking Lot Eagle at Reifel was a rookie, slumped miserably in his snag. Gloomy weather notwithstanding, he needs to work on his regalness.
On the way back out, an adult shows how it's done. Show some uprightness, perch at the top, and glare angrily over your shoulder.
We weren't there for long, for we were on our way to Tsawwassen, but even so, interesting things were seen, to be reported on later.
Mme. GPS took us on an interesting drive through west Delta, which was terrifically foggy, and muddy. We slowed down to see faint figures next to the road, a family of Trumpeter Swans--two adults, four young--grubbing for potato tubers and pining for clear arctic skies.
Every horse we passed wore a blanket.
We went for lunch in Tsawwassen, and afterward were directed northward by the confident lady's voice (yes, the GPS), through the tunnel into Richmond, and then something strange happened:
The fog lifted. Mountains and everything! Close to home, I decided I'd wash the car, which hasn't been done since before the snow.
But once home I dawdled. It was ten minutes before I was back outside. By the time I had turned on the outside water, reconnected the hose, found the nozzle, the bucket and other car-washing paraphernalia, the fog had returned and the temperature had plummeted. My spirits sank and I slumped, like the young eagle. I could not now face the cold, sudsy water.
The car remains dirty. All that those fifteen minutes of sunshine did was make me feel guilty.