Crow story

I don't know whether to laugh or to rant. I had walked along Miracle Beach at a very low tide; a long walk, zigzagging up and down, dodging slippery patches of seaweeds and loose rocks, going "just a bit farther ...  to that next rock ... to that patch of clean sand ..." 

Tide still going out.

Nearly back at the trailhead (those first trees at the left in the photo above), I stopped to sit on a log, rest my complaining knee. I was watching a crow standing on top of an inverted root mass at the end of a log; he seemed to be acting as lookout. After a bit, he dropped down into a hollow in a log pile, joining another couple busy down there. I could see something red, maybe a jacket, something yellow, a plastic bag, a bottle. There were no people anywhere nearby.

Distant scene, with crow #2.

The crows were busy with that yellow bag, then pulled out another from between the logs. Then they showed up with their goodies:

Tostada! Without the hot sauce.

After a while — the crows had emptied the first bag, and were hauling away rounds from the second; to the top of the logs, to the ground beyond — I got up and walked past the cache on my way. There was the jacket, a Tupperware container, open, with some green sauce in it, two little plastic plates, and the hot sauce. And the two bags, empty now. I collected these and carried them up to the trash containers. Meddling, I know.

At the entrance to the trail, a crow was collecting leftovers:

Taco chips

Two in the beak, two more to collect.

DO NOT FEED THE BIRDS, the signs say.

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No sé si reirme o si sermonear. La marea estaba muy baja y había caminado por largo rato, buscando camino, evitando areas con hierbas marinas resbalosas, areas con piedras sueltas, siguiendo el agua mientras se retiraba, siguiendo adelantes "un poco más ... hasta esa roca ... hasta esa zona de arena limpia ..."

Foto: la playa expuesta aquí a medias.

Al regresar, ya casi al principio del camino que da al estacionamiento (en la foto, donde empiezan los árboles a la izquierda), me senté sobre un tronco a descansar. Mientras, observaba un cuervo parado encima de unas raices invertidas; parecía estar actuando como vigilante. Después de un rato, bajó a reunirse con otros dos cuervos en un espacio entre pedazos de troncos secos. Desde mi asiento, podía ver algo rojo, tal vez una chaqueta, una bolsa de plástico amarilla, una botella. No se veía ninguna persona cerca.

Foto: el sitio, con cuervo #2.

Los cuervos se ocupaban con esa bolsa de plástico; luego sacaron otra de entre los troncos. Y luego aparecieron con el taquito.

Foto: cuervo con tostada.

Finalmente — los cuervos ya habían terminado con la primera bolsa, y estaban sacando las tostadas de la segunda y llevándoselas a los troncos, a la tierra más adelante — seguí mi camino. Al pasar el sitio, vi la chaqueta, un recipiente de plástico con algo de salsa verde, dos platitos de plástico, y la botella de salsa picante. Y las dos bolsas, ya vacías. Me las llevé para depositarlas en los recipientes destinados al propósito. Dejé lo demás para sus dueños ausentes.

Fotos: un cuervo juntando pedazos de tostada.

Dicen los letreros: FAVOR DE NO ALIMENTAR A LOS PÁJAROS.

Sea and sky

Coming out from the dim, busy woods of Miracle Beach Provincial Park, the view opens up. On a calm afternoon, at high tide, it's an easy on the eyes composition in blues. The shore from here to Campbell River lies in a line roughly north northwest.

Looking north from Storries' Beach. Straight ahead to the north is Quadra Island, with the lighthouse just visible, 15 km away. The white-capped mountains are on the mainland.

And looking south. The man in the canoe was gleaning logs just brought in by the tide. He has two chained up behind the canoe.

A Skywatch post.

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Saliendo del bosque, denso y oscuro, del parque provincial Miracle Beach, se abre la vista a mar y cielo, un descanso para los ojos en tonos de azul. La costa de aquí a Campbell River se orienta en una dirección noroeste/sudeste.

En la primera foto, mirando al norte desde Storries' Beach, se ve la isla Quadra, con su faro apenas visible; está a 15 km. de aquí. Las montañas nevadas están en la tierra firme.

En la seguna, mirando al sur, el hombre en la canoa estaba recogiendo troncos recién traídos por la marea. Trae dos encadenados atrás de la canoa.

Short visit

15 seconds with Harlequin ducks.

"Hey! Someone coming!"

"She's got a camera!"

"¡Vámonos!

Making tracks.

Two male Harlequins in breeding garb; the females are a mousy brown, except for white patches on the face, and non-breeding males are blotchy, slate blue, brown, with white head spots, no chestnut colour.

I like their scientific name: Histrionicus histrionicus, although it really only applies to the males. Showoffs!

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Quince segundos con los patos Arlequín.

Los dos son machos, y en su plumaje de la temporada de reproducción, el invierno. Las hembras son de un café pardo, aparte de unas manchas blancas en la cara. Y los machos, fuera de temporada, llevan sus colores azul/gris y café, sin definición en el cuerpo, con las manchas blancas de la cabeza. Han perdido el color castaño por completo.

Me gusta su nombre científico: Histrionicus histrionicus, aunque parece que solamente se aplica al macho en temporada.

Reds and browns

Miracle Beach is a busy summer beach. It's a wide, sandy, clean beach at low tide, in season sprinkled with happy kids, sand sculptors, and sleepy sunbathers. I went down in mid-winter, at high tide. There was no sand. All along the shore, up against the wet logs (it had been raining), were mounds of shredded algae.

On other beaches, winter high tides bring in tangles of long bull kelp and knots of eelgrass, ripped up by the roots, maybe some rockweed, and an occasional blade of Turkish towel. Here on the Miracle Beach shore, most of the algae were brown and red. A variety of kelps, but not one piece of bull kelp along the whole length of the beach. Many red algae; blades and threads and delicate feathery branches. Everywhere there was Turkish towel, new and old, from deep wine red (fresh) to magenta, to pink, then, sun-bleached, to pure white.

At the north end of the beach, more sea lettuce intermingled with the reds and browns. The gull is carrying a piece of dark brown seaweed.

Sugarwrack kelp, Saccharina latissima, with shreds of many others.

Besides the sugarwrack here, there is brown: a smooth-bladed kelp, a blade of eyelet silk, a stipe of something or other. Red: a handful of red spaghetti, a small branch of sea lace, a blade of something pink, and a fragment of Turkish towel. Green: the sea lettuce, and eelgrass.

A fragment of a winged kelp. With a few leaves of California rose, or something similar, sea lettuce, eelgrass, Turkish towel, and a smooth red blade, maybe iridescent seaweed.

Red eyelet silk, Sparlingia pertusa, bleached to brownish yellow. And a snail.

A very bleached blade of Turkish towel, showing the knobby papillae.

I brought home a small blade of Turkish towel, a clump of a small rockweed, and a handful of red spaghetti, Gracilaria sp., all of which I added to the aquarium. The kelp crab loved the red spaghetti:

It's good camouflage, almost matching his long legs.

No hiding place for a little hermit.

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La playa "Milagro", Miracle Beach, es una playa excelente para pasear un rato en el verano. Amplia, arenosa, limpia; siempre que la marea está baj, la playa está llena de niños jugando, escultores de figuras de arena, y gente soñolenta, tomando el sol. Pero yo fui a medio invierno, con la marea alta. No había arena. A todo lo largo de la playa, pilas y montones de algas marinas, rotas en pedacitos, cubrían el espacio entre el agua y los troncos caídos.

En otras playas, las altas mareas depositan nudos de hierba marina Zostera, y del kelp gigante, el de los tallos de muchos metros de largo, tal vez un poco del alga Fucus, y de vez en cuando un pedazo de toalla Turka. Aquí en la costa de Miracle Beach, casi todas las algas eran algas cafés o rojas. Había una gran variedad de alga "kelp", pero en toda la playa no vi ni un tallo del kelp gigante. De las algas rojas, había muchas diferentes, especialmente la toalla Turka por dondequiera, en todos sus colores, desde el rojo oscuro de la planta nueva, a magenta, color de rosa, y blanqueado hasta un blanco puro.

Las fotos; una gaviota con un pedazo de alga. Al extremo norte de la playa.

Una hoja de kelp "azucarada", con una variedad de pedacitos de otras algas.

Un trozo de kelp "alada".

Una lámina de lo que llaman ojete rojo. Es rojo cuando es nuevo, pero se vuelve amarillo con el tiempo. Siempre tiene esos agujeros.

Un pedazo blanqueado de toalla Turka, mostrando sus papilas.

Me traje a casa para el acuario, una rama de kelp azucarada, una plantita de Fucus, y un manojo de espagueti rojo. Al cangrejo kelp, le encantó este último: le sirve muy bien de camuflaje. Al ermitaño, no, pero como le gusta treparse a todo ... 

Breakwater, inhabited

Walking along the shore, I set myself goals; I'll walk to that interesting stump in the distance, then turn back. Or, it's time to head home, but I'll walk to that erratic, then turn back. Often, I get to my goal, see something else interesting ahead, and keep on going; just to that next huge log, then it's time to go, I tell myself.

The other day, my third goal was the breakwater at the south end of Miracle Beach.

Formed concrete blocks.

I was intrigued by these blocks. Most of our breakwaters are made of huge natural rocks, of which we have no shortage. It's a rocky island we live on. These looked like pieces of some giant's board game, smooth to begin with, now eroded and barnacled. I stopped to examine them.

Each one is a fat X.

They're not as durable as our native rock; the edges are chipped and gouged, probably by storm-driven logs. And on the undersides and protected areas, the mussels have settled in.

Mussels, barnacles, limpets, and a snail or two. Nothing moving; no crabs or hermits.

Looking over the photos later, I noticed the little guy waving at me:

See him? On the leading edge, at the left. Looks like he's fishing. Or collecting seaweed.

One of the Wee Free Men, although he's not blue. Maybe the woad washed off.

There was another, on the fourth playing piece of the top row: I cropped him from the original photo and moved him up to join the fisherman. He's at the top right.

Textures on the shore

Wind, rain, and waves rearrange objects on the shore, sometimes in surprising ways. And provide me with contrasting textures to look at.

Teredo-drilled log, sponge, ice. As found, well above the high tide line.

Also well above the usual high tide line; a small collection of rocks in a hollow near the root end of a log. As found.

On a lonely, icy stretch of Miracle Beach.

Wavy beach

Tide coming in over Miracle Beach

Sand waves, water waves

Miracle Beach is wide and flat. On a calm day, the tide rolls in quickly in a series of low, long waves. And the sand has its own waves, closer together, sharper, and strangely, at a different angle from the ocean waves that carved them.

Hairy moss

I joined a group this morning for a walk in the dripping wet, mossy Miracle Beach Provincial Park, looking at mosses, liverworts, and lichens, with guides from the local naturalists' society. (CVNS) I came home with a wet camera and a couple of hundred photos.

Tortula muralis, Wall screw-moss.

(This photo is not from the walk, but from a rock along the coast, last week. Today's tour guide has identified it as Wall screw-moss.)

This moss grows on rock, and preferably on concrete, so is found most often in urban areas. The hairs at the tip of each leaf, showing white in this photo, are a diagnostic feature. The name, "screw-moss" refers to a microscopic feature of the spore capsules.

I think the base rock is really an abandoned chunk of retaining wall.

I will be processing mossy photos for the next few days.

Miraculous patterns

... Or at least, patterns on Miracle Beach.

Periwinkles on a rock

Driftwood face

Driftwood swirls and sand

Flowing water and seaweeds

Stoneface I

Stoneface II

Miracle Beach, Vancouver Island, August.

Woodland creature

A deer on the trail, at Miracle Beach.

We've been busy, in spite of Laurie's fresh stitches, and have hundreds of photos to sort and share. However, internet access here is problematic, so I may be limiting myself to a photo or two daily until we're back home.

Miracle Beach. Miraculous beast, too.

We've  been scrambling around rocky beaches; round rocks, barnacled rocks, big, angular rocks, slippery seaweed-coated rocks, and just plain weird rocks (more about them later). Today we decided on a sandy beach. Flat and smooth and easy to walk on,  a treat for sore backs and bruised legs.

We drove down to Miracle Beach Provincial Park.

A viewing platform and fish weir located near the BC Parks office at the entrance to the park provides an interesting opportunity to view the Black Creek, ... Miracle Beach is also a good place for bird watching, and from the beach visitors have excellent views out over the Strait of Georgia.

We crossed the bridge over Black Creek, and saw a trail entrance, so we had to stop and investigate. The trail passes the fish weir and goes down to one of the parking lots; we went only part of the way, under evergreens and mossy maples.

Miner's lettuce. Likes swampy ground, stream beds. Nice addition to salads.

False bugbane, Trautvetteria caroliniensis

High up in the trees on the far side of Black Creek, a raucous argument broke out. I thought it was an angry heron at first; the opening voice had that growly, scratchy sound of a heron's croak, but the response from another tree was more of a squawk. Other birds joined in, squalling and creaking. We peered through the branches and finally saw them; big, black birds. Ravens.

What a racket! I'd thought crows were noisy; not at all; they're soft-voiced compared to their larger cousins. The argument (or maybe it was just a quiet, happy conversation for them; maybe they were even singing) went on and on. They finally moved to trees a bit upstream and subsided into mutterings and occasional creaks.

Our photos were of black shadows behind branches, but later, we came across some of them at a picnic site:

"What? No food here? Where's the cook?"

Young deer beside the trail to the beach.

The beach is wide and sandy; fine, soft, clean sand, even far out from shore. I dug down a full hand's depth without finding even a pebble.

Miracle Beach, looking south.

Tiny live clam.

There are a few rocky spots, covered mostly with sea lettuce. And thousands upon thousands of miniature black snails.

Catching crabs.

Near the picnic area, someone had built a whole menagerie of life-size sand animals. There were fish, a huge octopus, a turtle, a small killer whale, a shark head bursting out of the sand, fully equipped with sharp broken shell teeth. And a crocodile, "floating" in sand:

Far from home.

The body stretched back a good six feet. His teeth were blue mussel shells.