Our mother and daughter work days ended and after I got the zucchini parmesan assembled, I joined my beach urchin down on Bill’s Birch Point Beach Bank Bench for a Beach Hour. This is about the second day of a “three-day blow” but it was pretty warm down there wearing my blue polar fleece jacket.

The Round Island seagulls are gone (we think). Except for the young ones who (sadly) are not going to make it through the upcoming winter season. That means sick or injured youngsters along with some of those incorrigible teenagers who stubbornly refuse to listen to their parents. It’s possible that *some* of those will survive???

We did see a bunch of graceful birds that we *think* are Caspian terns. That’s our best guess. And soaring high over the beach was a boiled iggle. One of my younger cousins (but not that much younger) called bald eagles “boiled iggles” as a very young child. I’m sure us slightly older cousins teased her unmercifully about that. We were older and knew so much more. Not. All these years later I still remember that and, having raised young children myself, I think it is a WONDERFUL interpretation of “bald eagle”.

We eventually came up to the moomincabin to get our (late) dinner going and the radio is talk around here in the evening. I prefer music in the evening. My beach urchin didn’t want talk radio either so she put Paul Winter’s Common Ground on the pod. When she was a very young child, we used to play a tape of that almost every night at the moomin as we were getting dinner ready. Our good buddy Master Woodring gave it to us. I think it has whale song in it. I had been thinking about that just before she played it.

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