Great Black-backed Gulls

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The seagulls know the truth of it
And scream it overhead
~ David Gray
♫ (Nos Da Cariad) ♫

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Growing up visiting the beaches of Cape Cod I never paid close attention to seagulls, taking them very much for granted.  But in 2011, after reading the book, A Time for Everything, by Karl O. Knausgård, I’ve been drawn to these interesting sea birds. However, it wasn’t until April of last year (2012) that I noticed that there are different kinds of seagulls, when I saw a pair of black-headed gulls perched on a dock at Cumberland Island National Seashore in Georgia.

Now I’m pretty sure the gulls we commonly have on our beach here in Connecticut are American herring gulls. One day last August (2012), Tim & I were having a light supper sitting at a picnic table on the grass at our beach.  We were chatting away and I was watching a gull behind him, who was loitering on the grass, hoping for a handout.  (We never give them anything, however, because our food is not good for them.)  Slowly it dawned on me that this was the biggest gull I had ever laid eyes on!  And yet he had the speckled coloring of an immature one.

Thankfully I had my camera, but when Tim turned around to see what I was so excited about the gull took off.  He came back, however, and began strutting along the sidewalk as if he owned the place.

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Eventually he walked up onto the rocks and posed for me.

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In the pictures above and below I was trying to capture this huge baby standing as close to an adult “regular” gull as I could, to illustrate the difference in size.  There were two of these large gulls present that day, but this was the one that came closer to us.

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Ten days after this gull encounter at the beach we had to take Tim to the hospital in the middle of the night.  At dawn I came home to shower and then return to the hospital.  As I started driving down Bank Street in New London there was a seagull in the middle of the street, feasting on some roadkill.  He didn’t move out of the way of my car until it was almost too late.  When he did take off he didn’t fly away, though.  He kept flying just a few feet in front of my car, flying very low, all the way down Bank Street to Parade Plaza.

If seagull shows up it means it’s time to clean up your home environment and let go of and recycle as much as you possibly can. … Spend a significant amount of time at the seashore meditating, allowing the rhythms of the waves and the wind to be your guiding pulse.
~ Dr. Steven D. Farmer
(Animal Spirit Guides)

It wasn’t until late September, when we took a day trip to Block Island, that we got a clue about the identity of these giant seagulls.  Our tour guide asked us if we had ever seen a great black-backed gull, the largest of all gulls.  Apparently they are showing up on Block Island, too!

After Tim came home from the hospital, but before we went to Block Island, son Nate came up from Georgia to help “clean out our home environment” after Tim’s hospital stay. While he was here we took him to the beach one evening, all excited about showing him the big seagulls.  But they weren’t there that night.  However, we sat with him there for hours, soaking up the healing power of the sea and talking about the wonders of the universe – a memory I will treasure forever.  The following sketch reminds me of some of our conversations, Mr. Logic and Ms. Wonder, chatting with their son…

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image: Sketchnotes: Natalie Batalha on Exoplanets & Love

Since Nate left to go back home we have spotted the great black-backed gulls at the beach again many times, even after Hurricane Sandy and Blizzard Charlotte, so it looks like the two of them are planning to stick around for a while.  And my sister has reported seeing them there a couple of times, too, when she’s gone to the beach to eat a peaceful lunch in her car.  Beverly thought I had to be exaggerating until she saw them for herself!

Vegan ♥ Paleo

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To look for a “healthy” diet can be as discouraging as a search for the “true” religion.  I spent many years extricating myself from a belief system which had at one time seemed to have all the definitive answers my teenage self was yearning for.  One would think I might have learned a lesson or two about words and ideas that sound too good to be true.

Some of my readers may remember a few passionate posts I wrote back in October of 2011, when after reading several convincing books by cardiologists I decided that Tim & I should become vegans to try to reverse his heart disease.  In my mind it was a done deal, the final answer.  But in the months following our change to a vegan diet, Tim wound up in the hospital twice, which left me feeling demoralized.  It was as if eating plants was making things worse, not better.

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One day last fall, I happened to catch another cardiologist being interviewed on TV, and he was talking about the evils of gluten and wheat, and how consumption of grains leads to obesity, heart disease and diabetes.  And so began another round of research for me, more books, more websites, more theories to contemplate.  To make a long story a bit shorter, we have switched to a paleo diet, or caveman diet.  Wild game, grass-fed beef, pasture-raised poultry.  Lots of vegetables.  Nuts and berries.  Hunting and gathering.  No wheat or grains. Keeping our fingers crossed.

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This time around I’m not looking at this change as The Answer carved in stone.  It’s an Experiment to see if anything different will happen.  I’m the daughter of a scientist after all. Maybe the food we choose to eat has nothing at all to do with heart disease, though somehow I still think it might.  But cardiologists don’t seem to agree on the best diet for heart disease, so I won’t list all the authors of the books I consulted.  Staying off of the bandwagon for the time being.

Last week we did have some encouraging news after Tim went in for a checkup.  He lost some weight and his progress pleased his doctor for the first time since his original heart attack five years ago.  Let’s hope we’re finally on the right track, although I am keeping myself carefully skeptical, just in case…

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photos by Barbara Rodgers

wanting the sea…

“Connecticut Shore, Winter” by John Henry Twachtman

Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
 This is the thing I find to be:
That I am weary of words and people,
Sick of the city, wanting the sea;

Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness
Of the strong wind and shattered spray;
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound
Of the big surf that breaks all day.

Always before about my dooryard,
Marking the reach of the winter sea,
Rooted in sand and dragging drift-wood,
Straggled the purple wild sweet-pea.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
(Exiled)

 Where Mermaids Arrange their Hair

a sacred zone…

shell by Keith Shannon
Monomoy National Wildlife Refuge, Cape Cod, Massachusetts

Not a day goes by that I don’t take a walk on the beach.  The beach is truly home, its broad expanse of sand as welcoming as a mother’s open arms.  What’s more, this landscape which extends as far as the eye can see, always reminds me of possibility.  It is here I can listen to my inner voice, shed inhibitions, move to the rhythm of the waves, and ask the universe unanswerable questions.  That is why when I found myself at a crossroads in my marriage and my life, I ran away to Cape Cod and spent a year by the sea, I was sure this place, so full of my personal history, would offer clarity.

The beach to me is a sacred zone between the earth and the sea, one of those in-between places where transitions can be experienced – where endings can be mourned and beginnings birthed.  A walk along the beach offers the gift of the unexpected.  Scan the horizon and glimpse the endless possibilities.  Stroll head down and encounter one natural treasure after another.  Tease the tides and feel a sense of adventure.  Dive into the surf and experience the rush of risk.

~ Joan Anderson
(A Walk on the Beach)

Farewell, Aunt Betty

On Friday November 9, Tim & I drove up to Cape Cod for the day, to attend a memorial service for my Aunt Betty in Harwich.  The last time we were on the Cape was in the spring of 2009, far too long to be away, but so much has been going on in our lives the past few years.

It was so wonderful to see and hug my uncle (my mother’s brother) again, and two of my cousins.  Two of my mother’s cousins were also there with their wives.  We had some great conversations with them all about fond memories and genealogical discoveries.  And my grandparents’ elderly neighbors from across the street were there, too.

As I mentioned before, my Aunt Betty was a woman of very strong faith, and a lovely, gracious, generous lady.  I think she would have been pleased with the simple memorial her son arranged for her.  On a table in front of the altar there was a picture of her, a single rose in a vase, a pencil, and her Bible, complete with her notes in the margins and many underlined scriptures.  My uncle recalled how much she loved roses and how he made sure she received one for every birthday and every wedding anniversary.  And he felt the pencil was a fitting token of her love of writing.

After the reception Tim & I went to the cemetery at the First Congregational Church in Harwich, where a number of my ancestors, my grandparents and my mother lie buried.  I left them each a white rose from the bouquet we were given to take home after the service.  Of course there were tears, there had been tears off and on all day, but also a deep feeling of peace and connection.

We couldn’t leave the Cape without visiting the sea, and so decided to go to the West Dennis Beach, and there felt anew the truth of Isak Dinesen’s words, The cure for anything is salt water – sweat, tears, or the sea.  The first picture is looking southwest over Nantucket Sound, the second is a bit of the wrack line, and the third is seagull footprints in the sand.

moments of awe…

Image: Fire Island National Seashore

Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.
~ John Milton
(River of Life: How to Live in the Flow)

Sandy Aftermath III

The picture above shows that the storm surge was still relatively high.  There is a sidewalk just behind that white fence and the water never comes up to the top of the wall like it is in this picture.  We were planning to make our way over there to snap even more pictures, but the police suddenly decided it was time to have all of us leave the area so the city workers could start operating their equipment to clean up the beach!  If we had anticipated that happening we would have gone out there first off and worked our way back.  :)

In this picture you can see that a portion of the white fence is missing (left of center), and a bit of the wall with some of its top missing.  In the summer this stretch of sand is covered with mothers chatting under umbrellas, their children playing, blankets, towels, beach balls, shovels and buckets - I had my place among them – and senior citizens reclining, dozing or reading in deluxe beach loungers, enjoying their time in the sun…

…men at work, collecting chunks of stone for the payloader to haul away…

…remnants of the wall…

…sand and rocks deposited in front of Zbierski House…

…many rocks landed in the playground…

…waves still crashing over breakwater, wall, ramp and stairs…

…debris rammed into corner of wall and parking lot…

…section of wall in the foreground moved across the sidewalk…

Although we were amazed to see the damage done by Superstorm Sandy here on our little part of the Connecticut shoreline, we know that New York and New Jersey had it far worse and our hearts go out to them.  It is truly heartbreaking to see the TV footage of the devastation they are enduring while we sit in the comfort of our living room.

However, I have a hard time feeling much sympathy for the people in the wealthier beachfront areas of Connecticut.  Many of their homes were destroyed in Hurricane Irene just last year and they foolishly rebuilt at the same locations, and were wiped out again this time.

Recently I read an article that referred to a “way of life that was based on a mindless materialism oblivious to nature and its boundaries.”*  I think this is a case in point.  Mother Nature is delivering us a strong message about where we should not be building our homes.  Climatologists say we can expect more of these super storms in the near future and rising sea levels in general, due to global warming.

During the Great New England Hurricane of 1938, all the summer cottages and much of the land at Bluff Point, here in Groton, were swept away by the storm surge.  Nobody rebuilt there.  The newly formed peninsula became a state park.  It seems like the most sensible response to such a loss.  When will we stop stubbornly resisting the forces of nature and start trying to live in harmony with them?

*”Power of Nature” by Gitte Larsen, Søren Steen Olsen, and Steen Svendsen, Utne Reader, Nov-Dec 2012