Tuesday, November 5th, 0800, Port Browning, Hamilton Bay, North Pender Island, Gulf Islands, BC

The sun dog whispers smelted vapors through her cloistered breach as her languid breath caresses the trees with nurturing droplets of the heavens.  She contemplates her reflection in the calm waters of Hamilton Bay with a honed detachment mastered over the millennia.  Watching.

Ravens that congregate over in Brackett Cove perch in the firs, madrones, and leafless maples chortling and croaking amongst themselves. Forecasting the day. Planning.

A Blue Heron stands upon the breakwater with his head tucked between stooping shoulders, gazing silently through the shimmering water.  Patiently.  Purposefully.

Agitated crows chase an eagle from its hiding and corner it in a fir.  It displays little concern, a meddler hunting amongst their flock.  They continue their enthusiastic harangue.  The eagle glides from its perch to pursue another location.

A kingfisher pursues another of its kind through the bay chittering usurper… usurper… usurper… claiming back territory from the vagrant squatter.  It stops in a madrone, breaks off a twig and flies away.  Nesting.

The pull of a waxing moon encourages the tide to enter through the unfettered doorway of the bay. Slithering past eel grass, kelp and littoral denizens, it prepares the bay once more.

It is a new day.  Something worth noting.

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