Ships in the Sand and Kidz Gone...
After the interpreted walk was over, I decided to go see the tides at Alma after all, and was rewarded beyond all expectations. I’ve just discovered how to take photos and videos in sepia or black and white, and experimented with that option extensively as I roamed up and down the tidal plain. I parked the car right behind yesterday’s restaurant and found my own way through the back to the tidal plane. The tide was low and the ships were stranded on the sand.
Some seabirds got my attention:
Sepia was bestowing magic on the town itself:
Chasing the Ocean
I started walking along the tidal plane. In all I spent about four hours there, meandering my way deeper and deeper, and then when the tide started coming in, I ventured the “frontline” taking one video after another, culminating in filming how the incoming tide reached my sandals …(See sample clips above)
The poles show how high the tide can reach…
Same rock, 36 minutes apart.
Great place for romance…
The seagulls are expecting the tide and what it can bring
The observer’s shadow in the mud
The pic on the left reminds me of Dali’s amazing picture of the girl peeling the sea
People reacted to the incoming tide as they react to other things in their lives that entail some danger or are unusual. Most kept way back. Some turned rapidly around as the water started coming, but the families above waded in the surging water, letting their children collect crabs and seaweed, joking together. I can imagine the young Roosevelt enjoying himself similarly in his summer home in Campobello, until the busy adults called him and his siblings back with the acoustic megaphone…
Did This Really Happen?
As I climbed back up, I saw the towering figure of this cool painter on the top of the hill trying to take the tide in his way:
I’m guilty of a misdemeanor. I promised the man (we had a long and savory conversation) to send him the photos, but neglected to do so in time, and then lost his mail address. If he sees that publication, I hope I corrected the damage.
Some more romance:
I returned three hours later to record the tide risen:
Right: a lobster boat, ready to sail.
The boats nowadays are stocked with all kinds of antennas, radars and who knows what else, a far cry from the fishermen’s little motorboat my Mexican friends let me ride as they collected their lobster cages in the Gulf off Isla Mujeres in 1981.
The boats have by now have risen to the level of the dock.
That looks like an absolute nothing picture, but if you pay attention, you can see the tops of the tidal poles sticking just slightly above the risen water. Our minds sure play tricks on us. Once things change, it looks as if they always have always been that way. The normalcy of it is what stuns.
After the sojourn at Alma, I stopped again at the Visitor Center, that was open until 9:45 pm, to rest, research, write and charge everything that needed to be rested, researched, charged and written. I watched a bit of the Olympics with muted voice, but later, when the VC closed, I sat on the stairs outside, using their Wi-Fi. Unfortunately, all the exciting swimming tournaments were over by this hour, and I had to be content with boring tennis games. Frustrated, I soon quit and went to home-sweet-home tent.
The next day it was on to Truro and the missed tidal bore.