Friday, February 03, 2023

"All I ask ..."

 "... to the lonely sea and the sky ..."

The line from John Masefield's poem* was running through my head as I backed out of my driveway and aimed the car to the north. I have been too long peering at small things at close distances; today, I wanted to see water and space, even if the weather wasn't really good for walking on the shore, with a chill wind blowing alternate rain and snow. I headed north, to the hillside where last spring a large section of forest had been clearcut, exposing the channel between the islands. The lonely sea.

Menzies Bay to the left, Discovery Passage, due north and southwest.

Not much has changed since last April; some more of the trees along the shore have been cut, and the logging slash has been cleared away. A light dusting of snow covers the denuded forest floor. And there's Seymour Narrows leading off into the north with the hills of Quadra Island on the east, Ripple Rock lookout on the west. And a lone tug hauling a barge with tankers chugging its way north.

But why was one tall tree left standing? And is that a white speck on top? I zoomed in with the camera as far as it would go.

The white specs are two bald eagles. And there's a nest.

I went back to the car for the little pocket camera; it sees farther.

Two eagles and their nest.

So that was why the tree was left! Somehow, that makes me feel better about the rest of the devastation. Whoever cleared all this forest, whatever their plans for the space may be, at least they respected the eagles' prior claim.

I stood a long time on the side of the road, watching. One of the eagles left the nest and flew back and forth over the water, hunting for supper while his mate stood over the nest.

*Here's the entire poem:

Sea-Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
 
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
 
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

JOHN MASEFIELD, 1878 - 1967

A Skywatch post.
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"... He de ir otra vez al mar, al mar solitario y al cielo ..."

Esta linea de un poema por John Masefield corría por mi mente mientras bajaba la entrada de mi casa y orientaba el coche hacia el norte. He pasado mucho tiempo mirando cosas pequeñitas, muy de cerca; hoy quería ver agua y distancias, aunque el dia no era propicio para caminar en la playa, con un viento helado trayendo lluvia, y a veces, nieve. Me dirigí hacia el norte, hacia el lugar donde, la primavera pasada, habían tumbado toda una sección grande de bosque, dejando a la vista el estrecho que va entre las islas. ... el mar solitario ...

Foto #1: La vista. La bahía de Menzies hacia el izquierdo, el estrecho de Seymour apuntando al norte, y al lado derecho, el pasaje hacia el sur.

No mucho ha cambiado desde abril del '22; han cortado algunos árboles en la costa, y han limpiado el terreno, quitándole los restos del bosque. Una capa ligera de nieve cubre el suelo desnudado. Y ahí se ve el estrecho yendo al norte, con los cerros de la isla Quadra al oriente, y el mirador de Ripple Rock al lado del oeste. Y un barquito remolcador llevando una barcaza llena de camiones cisterna.

Pero, ¿porqué han dejado un árbol solitario todavía en pie? Y ¿es que veo un puntito blanco allí? Empujé la lente de mi cámara a lo máximo.

Foto #2: Los puntos blancos son las cabezas de dos águilas. Y hay un nido.

Foto #3: Regresé al coche para traer la camarita de bolsillo. Ve mejor a grandes distancias. Sí, son dos águilas y su nido.

Así que eso era la razón! Y me hace sentirme mejor acerca de todo lo que ha pasado, por la pérdida del bosque y sus habitantes; por lo menos respetaron el derecho primordial de los águilas.

Me quedé por largo rato en el borde de la carretera, observando. Uno de los águilas dejó el árbol y voló sobre el mar, yendo y viniendo, cazando, buscando la cena, mientras su pareja montaba guardia sobre el nido.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Subí el poema entero, pero no me atrevo a traducirlo. En el, el autor (Masefield, 1878 - 1967) expresaba su deseo de estar en un barco en el mar solitario, "... un dia de viento con las nubes blancas volando ..."

Este fue un post de Skywatch. Haz clic para ver cielos alrededor del mundo.


5 comments:

  1. Thank goodness they didn't cut down the tree with the nest! What a treat to see eagles nesting.

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  2. Beautiful photos. Glad you could capture the eagles and their nests.

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  3. So good to see that tree still standing and the eagles at their nest. So beautiful in every way.

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  4. Hip. Hip. Hooray. The eagles nest still is there on top of that tree. Once on TV we saw two anchormen inside an eagles' nest. I never knew that they were that huge! Seeing is believing, eh? Thanks for sharing the three images, the poem and most of all the eagles nesting. Happy Trails.....

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  5. Beautiful photos, as much as I love the woods and forests, I also love wide open spaces. I'm glad somebody decided to spare the tree with the eagles nest. Of course the area around it is now completely changed.

    I love your poem. It is mystical yet accessible.

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I'm having to moderate all comments because Blogger seems to have a problem notifying me. Sorry about that. I will review them several times daily, though, until this issue is fixed.

Also, I have word verification on, because I found out that not only do I get spam without it, but it gets passed on to anyone commenting in that thread. Not cool!

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