Today I ventured out toward Porter's Island. You know, just a walk on the rocks from Hunter's Point. With northeast winds up to 20 mph, I knew the waves were rolling in big, but I decided to try my luck. However, as I stood on the east edge of Hunter's Point, looking across for a ridge that wasn't getting mauled by incoming waves, I knew it was not my day. Porter's Island was really an island.
Instead, I sat on the south side of the big rock that protrudes up from the tip of Hunter's Point. There I would be warm and dry as I wrote. Porter's Island was my subject for the day, and as I looked east past it, I noticed a friend who has come back for the summer: the Bell Buoy! Oh, handsome bell buoy, how did I not hear your lovely dinging as I rode into town? I apologized for my lack of perception, but rejoiced in his presence. He will be with us until the fall.
As I was finishing up my thoughts for the page I was penning, a large and powerful wave found its way over my shield rock and right in my lap! It soaked me! I squealed and stood up to see if anymore were on their way. Nope. Just the one to remind me that Lake Superior always has a trick up her sleeve. Oh, that blue little devil.
I found one of my favorite foliages growing today. Fiddleheads! If they weren't the fuzzy kind, I could have had myself a green little snack. Everyday I notice more and more species budding or popping up from under the brown depths of the earth. Spring doesn't just melt the snow, it melts my heart.