Friday, January 22, 2016
An afternoon at the beach
You might think this an unlikely thing to do on January 22 in Canada, but it was one of the warmer days, though cloudy. The sun had turned the sky a sort of amber earlier - before noon, quite lovely, but the sky over upper New York State was almost black.
Wicklow Beach, sand and pebbles snugged under in a long duvet of snow, water banked in ice was still, peaceful. You could hear the it slowly, softly lapping where they met. Not a soul was around, though occasionally a car would go by - a lake-lover as I am, stopping once in a while to roll down the window and just listen, stare
About two hundred yards or more offshore, a tiny iceberg floated, haven to six or seven black water birds, perched, waiting. Others dotted the water making none of their usual sounds and calls as if they too felt the magic.
Turning west, I saw the sun trying in vain to pierce the cloud cover, instead laying down a brilliant layer of shining silver along the horizon.
We headed back to our car and once again I was amazed at the peace, the long, silent stretch of snow- covered beach that necklaced the edge of the lake.
I stood listening to the stillness for many minutes.
Finally I turned back towards the car with one final glimpse of a precious afternoon at the beach.