One last flight over the beach

Where did everybody go?
Port Stanley, ON
September 2023
This photo originally shared on Instagram

On the first day of autumn, the gulls frolicked in the sky, arguing with each other over whatever scraps they could find in the sand below.

The crowds below had thinned out since the peak of summer, yet still the birds searched from above, hoping for a stray hot dog or fry. They relentlessly circled the beach, landed in a pack, then took off again as opportunity beckoned once more. It was hypnotic to watch.

I wondered where they’d go when the crowds finally disappeared for good. Soon enough autumn will give way to winter. The ice fences will arrive, and the sand will disappear under the drifting snow. Even Great Lakes need an occasional rest.

It occurred to me that while I was pondering the future of these birds, they most certainly were not. All that mattered to them was the here-and-now. Finding their next meal. Staying ahead of the other birds. Staying in the sky. Landing safely.

Tomorrow didn’t seem to matter to them. They needed to get through today first.

I wished them silent strength as I stepped off the beach one last time and shook the sand from my feet. Tomorrow was still a mystery, but still I hoped they’d stay safe and warm and fed, and that we’d meet again when the crowds eventually return.

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