Journal of a Sabbatical

December 23, 1998

it gets cold

The Newt Gingrich catnip doll is standing on its head at the bottom of the stairs.

Finally we get the hat and glove weather the forecasters have been predicting, and the heat at the cat shelter is on the Fritz. It's 53 degrees in the sick room. The front room is a little warmer, plus we're all running around like crazy to get everything done so we're not really feeling the lack of heat.

Goldie is liberated from the sick room and really happy about it.

Alexis and Chantal really did go to a foster home this time. So their two story kitty playpen style cage is empty.

Somebody has already applied to adopt Eddie - one of Sadie's kittens. I was telling Nancy what a good job the vet did sewing Eddie's empty eye socket shut (all Sadie's kittens are one-eyed like her) and how cute and adoptable he looks with fur there. I didn't really mean Nancy should grow fur over her blind eye!

Even thought it's bitterly cold, I decided to go look for birds because the sun is out and the sky is clear. There are hundreds of Canada geese and black ducks in the river by the boat ramp. The salt pannes are frozen. Everything is frozen except part of the Stage Island pool. Canada geese advancing like an invading army over the hill - first you see their heads then the necks then the whole goose.

Northern pintails dabbling with their stiff tails sticking up remind me of horseshoe crabs that have been turned upside down by the waves.

A cardinal sings in a bare tree. His bright red and the deep blue sky against the gold of spartina and ammophila (sp?) and the flat blue-gray of the ice would make a nice Christmas card.

Eiders spooked by a low flying plane flap and splash and churn up the water but don't take flight. They huddle in tight circular groups of 80 or so.

A seal on a rock lets the waves wash over him repeatedly. Half an hour later he's balanced on the tip of the rock, the only part not covered by the incoming tide yet. His salt encrusted head and his wet black body make him look like a yin yang symbol. A symbol of balance balancing on an ever shrinking point.

Sea urchin, black clam, razor clam, green crab, sand dollar, moon snail, periwinkle, skate egg cases litter the beach.

Wind rounding the tip of Sandy Point freezes me through my jacket. I turn back to the warm side of the island.

Four yellow-rumped warblers fly parallel to my car for about a quarter of a mile on my way back out of the refuge.