Killer whales yesterday. Killer whales all last week, too. All heading south. Strange.
We see Orcas, of course. But it is not like we ‘track’ them or anything. They just go by every now and then. Sometimes up channel. Sometimes down. It is always ‘attention-getting’ but as a rule it is just commuting neighbours writ black and white, wet and large. We enjoy the sight but don’t think too much about it.
Having said that, I don’t ever recall three separate pods all heading south within days of one another. And, yes, we can tell the difference between pods. The dorsal fins of the bulls are usually distinctly different and the numbers in the pod vary.
Ravens are acting a bit different, too. Typically Liz is on the nest right about now and only Jack forages. If we see her, we don’t see him. Trade-off time. But yesterday, we saw them both. Odd. Doesn’t bode well for the eggs unless they have hatched. And that doesn’t seem likely. Not yet.
It’s prawning season again. My neighbour dropped a couple of traps. Usually, the first traps of the season get good results. Not this year. Meagre is the word. Minimal. Not a good sign.
It is just April. Usually by now the sun is shining and doing so at least half the time. March this year came in like a lion and left like a raging bull. Blew like hell last night. Blowing like hell right now. Winter just hasn’t quite let go it’s nasty grip. There are a few signs of spring but it still doesn’t feel like spring-is-in-the-air. Not quite.
People are snapping, too. Happens every year, they say. A bit-too-long-a-winter and the darkness catches up with folks. They get a bit crabby, a bit snappish. Tensions run a bit high. Sometimes they call that state one of being ‘bushed’ but really, that term should be reserved for the more extremely isolated and antisocial characters. Real hermits. Not us. I think it is mostly just some variant on Spring fever or maybe SADs (Seasonal Affective Disorder), sunlight deprivation. Whatever it is, it is real. People are a bit grumpy.
Still, I think a few nice long days of sunshine would help plants and animals alike.
We got all the fibreglass done on Sal’s boat despite the bad weather. A judiciously applied source of heat at just the right time and just the right place made the job do-able. The weather was not good but we prevailed. A bit more ‘messin’ about’ painting and fixing and we’ll launch it again. Probably next week. Sal is happy. Almost.
We have to go to town. Probably tomorrow. Haven’t been in two weeks. Getting a bit low on things like milk and chocolate. We can do without the milk, tho. But some things are just way too important. Sal has decided to go to town regardless of the weather. And Sal said, “THERE WILL BE CHOCOLATE!”
All in all, I’d have to say that we are on the down side of a number of naturally occurring, mood-affecting cycles – foodstuffs, movies, chocolate inventory, weather, sunshine and, most importantly for me, frequency of communication.
It is not that bad but this is the time of year that seems the loneliest to me. All the busy working people are busy working. All the non-working people are still ‘holed up’ and hunkered down. Family is away. Writers and callers are fewer (We definitely get more attractive to our friends as the weather gets sunnier. Maybe it is the tan I get?).
In the dead of winter, I expect to be ‘cut off’ from people (I am not always cut off. Sometimes we travel and are busy interacting but I expect otherwise when I am home. A neighbour likens it to human hibernation. Anyway you describe it, less people in winter is just fine with me). In the middle of the summer, there are always too many people (they tend to cluster, to bunch up, ya know?) It is usually just right in the autumn.
It all reminds me of the Chinese curse and blessing, “May you live in interesting times.”
And we do. Right now is just a smidge more interesting than other times.