radiantfracture (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
radiantfracture) wrote2017-04-03 06:56 am
radiantfracture) wrote2017-04-03 06:56 am
Entry tags:
Sunday Stone-Scrabbling (II)
First an interest in barometers, and now another sign of encroaching middle age: idly musing about tide tables.
It's technically Monday now, so this sea-report is late.
It's end of term, so work is all there is in the world -- except that the sun has come out and one has a duty, you know. Here are some pictures of what that looks like along the water in James Bay, on an ostensible errand for groceries.
It was a dry day, the tide fairly well out. I only had one dodgy moment on the path, where I backtracked from a convergence of mud, narrow path, and rounded rock, all creating a natural tendency to the fatal pratfall, and ended up picking my way between the stones below instead. This was perfectly fine; the way was only partially submerged.
This is what I saw from the path above. I thought it was probably an accident of flotsam, but it seemed so deliberate that I wanted a better look.
Here it is a bit closer to:
There were screws driven into the bottom log all the way along. I think it must be a relic of the way log booms are put together, for all it looks like an art installation called "The Loom of the Sea", or string art writ large.
Here is the narrow declivity through which I clambered (it felt much more impressive at the time than it looks here):
A bit of view, before I went up the stairs to the real world again:
{rf}
It's technically Monday now, so this sea-report is late.
It's end of term, so work is all there is in the world -- except that the sun has come out and one has a duty, you know. Here are some pictures of what that looks like along the water in James Bay, on an ostensible errand for groceries.
It was a dry day, the tide fairly well out. I only had one dodgy moment on the path, where I backtracked from a convergence of mud, narrow path, and rounded rock, all creating a natural tendency to the fatal pratfall, and ended up picking my way between the stones below instead. This was perfectly fine; the way was only partially submerged.
This is what I saw from the path above. I thought it was probably an accident of flotsam, but it seemed so deliberate that I wanted a better look.
Here it is a bit closer to:
There were screws driven into the bottom log all the way along. I think it must be a relic of the way log booms are put together, for all it looks like an art installation called "The Loom of the Sea", or string art writ large.
Here is the narrow declivity through which I clambered (it felt much more impressive at the time than it looks here):
A bit of view, before I went up the stairs to the real world again:
{rf}