It’s cold, cold enough to turn water seeping from mineral rich rocks on False Outer Point into frozen brown streams. Drips from exposed tree roots build up like candle wax on exposed grass blades. But the eagles still work the tidelands for food left behind by the ebbing tide. My old friend, the kingfisher looks for baitfish near the rocky shore. Even the simple sparrow flits among stalks of dried cow parsnip made stiffer by the freezing temperatures.
Aki, wearing a felted covering, seems oblivious to the cold and wind. Other than taking extra care to avoid any water over ice, she acts like we are out for a summer outing. Am I the only one affected by the storm that has already obscured the mountains and glacier and carries snowflakes in its onshore wind? Technically, the answer to that question is, “no.” My digital camera turns on its self timer as I set up a shot of an eagle so I have to watch it glide with talons extended through my viewfinder while the camera counts to ten.