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There's a big inflatable
white thing towering over Newburyport. I see it
from the bridge (on Bridge Rd.) and think "Has
Christo wrapped the Coast Guard Station?" As I get
closer, I realize it's not the Coast Guard Station.
It's a thing in Waterfront Park. The final weekend
of Yankee Homecoming has evidently turned into
Alien Homecoming. I try to drive past to get a
better look but cops are detouring traffic around
the downtown. More evidence of Alien
Homecoming?
The Dog Days of August are
upon us. It's darn hot. Maybe that big inflatable
white thing is some kind of newfangled air
conditioner.
Maybe it's one of the new
feral feeding stations accidentally enlarged by an
inverse "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids" ray.
We will return to the white
thing later in the narrative. Meanwhile, I have to
photograph cats. And as it turns out I also have to
photograph people moving air conditioners. The ac
in the main room has breathed its last. The plan is
to move the one from the office into the main room
so the cats and volunteers will not wilt and then
buy a new one for the office.
Jane decides she can't wait
for Bob to get here after his plover warden shift
to help so she carries the ac in from the office. A
cast of thousands positions it, removes the
unnecessary side panels, mops up the puddles of
water... assembles, disassembles... Bob is elected
to carry the old broken one down the stairs to
await trash pickup.
Besides the defunct air
conditioners (there are two broken ones but Bob
only had to remove one today) there's a litter of
baby raccoons in the parking lot, well in the vet's
wild animal cage in the parking lot... and I can't
resist photographing them too even though they're
not part of the air conditioner narrative. Should I
put the raccoons in the newsletter too? Probably
not. They're so cute though. However, it's already
up to 8 pages and I've had to take out some cat
pictures to fit the air conditioner pictures, but
hey a story is a story. The air conditioner move is
a story. The raccoons are not. Sigh.
It's wicked foggy today. It
rises up off the river in waves that make the big
white thing look even more alien. On the refuge, a
glossy ibis spreads its wings in a perfect vee,
reflected in the flat still North Pool. The ibis
looks ancient in the mist, like one of those old
Egyptian ibis statues. Swallows are massing,
perched on wires everywhere. The osprey young don't
seem to have flown yet. Nancy claims that they
really have already fledged but they won't
fly when I'm looking. I watch for awhile as the fog
drifts in and out then starts to sock everything in
for the night. They stretch their wings but don't
fly.
On the way home, I take a
side trip to Rings Island for a better look (albeit
from the other side of the river) at and some
pictures of the big white thing. It looks even less
explicable from across the river.
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