Sunday, October 2, 2011

The day after

It’s a normal day at the ocean today but for some reason a lot of plastics washed up on the shore today.

I’m still recovering from my sickness. I’m itching to do some relief work. I feel so sorry for all my fellow Filipinos whose homes are inundated by the floods from the two typhoons this past week. 

Quiel was quite intense here too- but mostly wind. Aside from a few broken windows (the locks broke during the typhoon) and a wind-withered garden, nothing much else happened. I was surprised we didn’t lose any trees.  Lucky we hardly got any rain on this side. It would have been devastating if we had equally strong wind and rain. 

The ocean was surprisingly reserved in the wind. By the late afternoon everything had calmed down. The beach was sculpted anew, and quite clean.
Yesterday morning I got up quite early. The Kingfishers are always noisy at 5 am, and it was no different. They were announcing  a fairly clear day ahead and were obviously pleased to be alive. It seemed so still and peaceful. There were onshore and offshore breezes blowing steadily. Everything was bright and clean- except for the fence, which was gray with all the sand blown on it from the day before. The migrating birds were busy trying to make up for the lost time. 

There were so many different types of birds – big, small, dark and white, all flying south. The bigger birds seemed to have a harder time flying against the wind because they have to fly higher. The smaller birds stayed as close as they could to the ocean, dipping low with the trough of the waves and flying right over the white wash and spray. The determination of birds is quite admirable. 

As the sun started coming out the blue-gray horizon and the ocean’s hues were accentuated. The first kilometer or so was brown because of the water coming in from the rivers. Further out, different shades of aqua, dark green, and blue green, dotted with disappearing and reappearing white peaks from the wind. 

The beauty of nature is amazing, awe inspiring. But once we start messing around with nature, we feel her wrath. 

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