69th Birthday

Yesterday, we ran some easy miles; the half marathon is less than ten days away, and now is the time when any niggling pain or stiffness would be likely to rear its head.  I had ordered a new pair of shoes and they arrived yesterday, so that is what I wore today.  I decided to run the second mile "comfortably fast" and was surprised that, on these new shoes, I was about a minute faster than my expected pace.  But I also noticed a lot of stiffness in my right leg, involving the IT band and the knee - the new shoes, perhaps? - which, however, seems to improve the more I run.  The rest of the day was spend soaking up the brilliant sunshine (well protected with sunblock) down on the beach in deck chairs.

We had planned to spend today, this rest day, my 69th birthday, taking a ferry from Beaufort to Bird Shoals, and a pristine beach.  It reminded me of one of my favorite Laurie Anderson songs:

"I've been getting lots of sun. And lots of rest. It's really hot.
Days, I dive by the wreck. Nights, I swim in the blue lagoon
Always used to wonder who I'd bring to a desert island."

(Of course, there is no doubt who I would bring!)  But the thick morning fog that has been quickly dissipating the past two mornings did not move; it stayed around until early afternoon.  We even wondered if, having been dropped off, the ferryman would be able to find us again when it was time to return to Beaufort.  So we decided to take a short hike on a new trail we had read about, the Hoop Pole Creek trail; the trail head was just opposite Bojangles and the parking lot of Food Lion, right in the heart of Atlantic Beach.

The walkway began right off the parking lot but quickly left the dubious fast food and grocery-store civilization behind, and in no time we were lost in a beautiful maritime forest.  It passed by live oak trees with outspread limbs, and ended up on the salt marsh.  What a surprise to find this quiet walk in the unlikeliest of places.

After lunch at the condo, we decided to go back out to Fort Macon for a hike on the Elliott Coues Natural Trail (see post of February 11).  The sun had broken through by then, and we began by taking Yarrow's Loop, where we had gone bird watching last week.  As we turned the corner, we saw an amazing sight:  the trees out in the lake, where last week we had sighted two or three birds, was filled with dozens of roosting white ibises:

We have never seen these birds except standing out in the salt marsh, usually solitary; never in a group like this.  Martha said with a smile that she counted and there were 69 of them.  We lingered to take photographs, but few of them captured the astonishing sight.

We circled the pond and began the hike toward the Bath House, then back on the dune side; it was a lovely day.  When we returned, we visited the pond again, and on our approach we saw a dozen or so ibises on the wing, heading back toward the pond; perhaps they had been spooked and been forced to disband, and now they were returning to their late-afternoon and early-evening roosting place.

We came closer and closer to one solitary little fellow who was standing in shallow water, fishing; or perhaps he was the lookout who had given the alarm earlier.

He spread his wings wide as he stood there, displaying the tell-tale black wing tips; a beautiful sight.

So it turned out to be a good day, despite the change of plans, to celebrate 69 years of life, of being out of doors in places like this, with my loving wife at my side sharing the glory of this beautiful world where at any moment the attentive man or woman might see winged creatures soaring heavenward, or coming down to rest for the night.

The plan for the evening was to have tapas, or "small plates," at the same place we had discovered last year, Circa 81 in Morehead City, where, I must confess, I did not eat food particularly conducive to tomorrow morning's run - think Medjool dates wrapped in bacon with a sunchoke sauce, and seared sesame tuna with wasabi and soy ginger dipping sauce, not pasta and marinara.  But a man only passes the 69 year mile marker once in a lifetime after all.