Out of the Fog
I find the ocean pleasant enough but my heart lies in the swampy, mucky marsh where unseen things slither and hop and crawl. But this past week produced fog almost every day, and like a classic black and white movie it lured me across the road to breathe the briny air and take a stroll on the sand.
My plan of a leisurely walk along the shoreline quickly changed. I took my favorite gray sweater and wrapped it tightly around the bird, encasing its wings and feet so he wouldn't become a problem in my car as I was driving. This bird was long and heavy, 10 or 11 pounds. He was fairly calm, laying his large head along my upper arm like a tired toddler as I walked to the car. Off I went to our wildlife veterinarian on the next island. My little car has hauled pelicans, gannets, turtles, opossum and other island creatures. Now I can add a loon to the list. I keep a large cat carrier, crabber's gloves and a blanket in the car at all times because inevitably my path will intersect with another animal needing assistance.
So when I have those times that I think I can't take any more hurricanes or tourists or sand spurs, I recall days like this when I held a loon in my arms.
"Life is not made of the number of breaths we take, but of the moments that take our breath away."