Very reluctantly, I allowed Skye to talk me into going down to the beach this morning. It was cold, 40 F, mostly cloudy, and blowing like snot, so hard I had to tighten the neck string on my hat.
"Thanks, Dad! How about letting me off the rope?"
It was a short walk; the way around the cliff was closed by the tide, and I didn't feel like dragging Skye up the steps and around.
Very rarely, the sun would escape through a break in the clouds, and cast a little light. Unfortunately, never where we were. By the time we were done, my hands were nearly numb. Time to get out the "homeless gloves."
Stupid Seagull? Can't you read.
Do you seen them? I didn't at this point; I actually saw them as I was getting in the car and came back for the next shot.
The
Bufflehead Ducks, our classic winter duck, are back for winter. I don't care what the calender says; now it's winter.
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