Nature Connection: Quiet Days

Early on a recent morning I headed to the beach for a walk. The cold had receded a bit, enough so that I could walk without having my face ripped off by the wind coming off the water, always a good thing. I still needed my hat and mittens and my cozy turtleneck sweater around my neck, but it is still January, after all.

The beach was quiet with an outgoing tide and a slim line of coral-colored light hovering just over the water in the distance, as if Nantucket was sending out a ribbon of sweetness across the sound. The usual cadre of gulls was nowhere to be seen. Only a single ring-billed gull stood guard by the jetty where a half dozen common eider ducks were diving for mussels and other shellfish goodies.

The wind and weather of winter had tossed a lot of things around on the beach, especially sand. There were broken shells, old seaweed and feathers that wouldn’t have helped a fly take flight, they were so beat up, all half buried in sand. Here there was the hump of a whelk egg case and there was a piece of horseshoe crab carapace. A piece of someone’s sneaker rested near an old broken piece of wood and a broken child’s bucket handle stuck up like some weird flagpole for tiny beach people.

On this day there were no boats, no planes, no other people as I walked, just the soothing rhythm of the waves coming in and out, barely kissing the sand as they dropped off a shell fragment or two. It was all very peaceful and calm, and that line of coral changed to pink as I walked, then began to fade to a pinkish white as the sky filled with more clouds that took on a periwinkle blue shade. 

I walked by the jetty and spent some time watching the song sparrows forage in the low rosa rugosa bushes that are now black skeletons, barely reminding me of their luscious spring and summer beauty and abundance. There are rabbits that feed here, but on this day they were in hiding for I didn’t see even a sign of one. Tracks of a coyote passing by were evident, as they often are in this area, but no glimpse of the actual canid for me on that day.

Snow buntings are easy to find at this beach, and as I rounded a corner a flock of several dozen rose up, twittering as they did. The flock turned, the white on the birds’ wings flashing in the subdued morning light. I don’t know what it is about these little northern visitors that makes me so happy, but they always do.

Snow buntings breed up north on the tundra, but winter conditions up there are pretty harsh, so they spend winters in areas like ours with less snow cover. This means they can easily find enough food and fresh water. Although they are fairly common here every winter, many people don’t see them due to their habits of being on the ground and their amazing camouflage. They spook easily, so if you walk too close to them, you’ll see and hear them rise into the air, but when they land, they blend right back into the scenery. Look for them in dune areas but also fields and areas that are open and full of seeds. I’ve seen them in every town on the Cape, so it’s just a matter of being watchful and aware. If you know where to find horned larks, you can probably find snow buntings in the same area.

As I looked out over the water, I wondered what all was going on down under the waves that we can’t see. There’s so much in this world that we don’t know about or understand. While we fill the world with plastic and poisons, thousands of creatures and plants are just minding their own business and living out their watery lives as if we don’t even exist. Imagine that.

Right whales have returned to Cape Cod Bay, so if you’re walking bayside beaches, keep your eyes open. Provincetown is always a good bet, but don’t overlook places like Town Neck or Sandy Neck in Sandwich and Barnstable or Scusset Beach, just over the bridge in Sagamore. One year half a dozen right whales entertained a crowd at Corporation Beach in Dennis for a whole day before moving on, so just be aware they are around and keep looking.

And isn’t that the great secret of experiencing nature? To just keep looking and listening? I never know exactly what I’ll see or hear when I head out for a walk, whether on a beach, in the woods, or a field. I often have an idea of things I hope to see, but lovely surprises happen almost every day and I love that.

If you need a break from the crazy news cycle, get outside and just be in the moment for a while. It’s the best antidote for the horrors of our time, and it doesn’t cost anything at all. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a ribbon of pink in the sky long after sunrise as I did, and you can tuck it away in your memory.