And up on the roof there arose such a clatter...

...that I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter!
And what to my wondering eyes should appear...

This morning I noticed a lovely fog dancing across the surface of the lagoon and went out to take a picture. It wasn't all that photogenic, but the sunrise was, so I turned to photograph the sunrise just as a seagull flew into the image, and I got this perfect shot.

But this post is not about the perfect shot, but the one that got away.
Because while I was taking this picture, I heard a huge clatter, and turned to see two eagles who had apparently been battling -- or perhaps mating -- in mid-air and had gotten tangled up and plummeted onto the roof of that boathouse just across from us, by the entrance to the lagoon.

I wasn't quick enough to photograph them on the roof -- I turned just as they were sliding off into the water. One of them managed to extricate herself before she hit the water; I got this (very bad) shot of her sitting on the ladder of the boathouse watching the other eagle trying to extricate himself from the water (have you ever watched an eagle try to swim?). So I got another shot of the waterlogged eagle sitting somewhat bemused and bedraggled on the bank after crawling out.


End of story -- or so I thought -- until 2 hours later I heard another huge crash and banging, and thought perhaps the eagles were now battling it out on my roof. But Nemo started barking and wouldn't stop, so eventually I went out into the living room to see what was up. It still wasn't obvious, but he was staring fixedly at a point just beyond our boardwalk so I stood next to him to see what he was focused on and couldn't believe my eyes: the boathouse had just completely collapsed into the water!

I called Joanna, but she hadn't seen it happen (though she'd heard it), so we decided to call 911, as we didn't know who owned the boathouse. We worry that if it were to float loose from its moorings it could effectively seal off the channel. So the police came by to investigate, and I showed them the before and after pictures. Pretty funny -- I heard the dispatcher ask the policeman over his walkie-talkie if he had gotten the license numbers of the marauding eagles! My policeman assured him that if he caught the perpetrators he'd be sure to haul them in...

I tried tracking down the boathouse through Google maps with no luck, but found what might be the owner by going to Zillow, the real estate site and called the agent who is listing what I think may be the house that owns the boathouse (the listing does say it has a boathouse, though there's no photo). Such fun to be a detective! And so I've done my best to notify the owner. If anyone knows for sure who it is, they might want to call and find out what the plan is to take care of the problem...

Like the song says -- My Lord, what a morning!

We took a lovely walk down to the turnaround this morning. It was pretty tough going, as the snow had drifted quite high in some places, and the weather had warmed up a bit so it was heavy, with a crust on the top. I have no idea what it would be like now; the amount of snow has almost doubled since we walked (I think we'll need to shovel a path for Nemo; he's having a little trouble figuring out how to deal with the snow). But we're grateful for it all, both the beauty of it and the fact that we STILL HAVE POWER! Yay!

The rains have begun, alas; who would know looking outside today how gorgeous it was here just two short days ago!

I did take advantage of that sunshine, and am happy to report I got this lovely photo of the Sears' bumper crop of Sweet Peas: a perfect tribute to Dick Cole.

September sunrise

It's so lovely to have the sunshine and clear skies back again after all the clouds, cold, and rain. Perhaps summer isn't QUITE over yet!

Hot August Morning

How is it that the heron seems to know exactly where he should stand to make the best possible photo?

Heron in Denial

Hmm. What if we just named the lagoon Denial? Then we could all be living ON Denial instead of IN Denial...

The beauties of funkiness

The chair of the planning commission is not the only person on Bainbridge who doesn't understand why we choose to live on the Sandspit. I distinctly remember meeting someone at a theater gathering once who, upon hearing I lived on the Sandspit, replied, "Why would anyone choose to live THERE? It's so FUNKY."

I confess that my first response upon hearing that was to pity the man. How sad, to look at sights like this one -- the sandspit yacht club on a beautiful summer's day -- and see, not the charm and the color, but the garbage can, the disrepair of the dock, and the questionable nature of Clem's boat's name. How sad to prefer an architect-designed craftsman-style boathouse to the brilliant turquoise of this corrugated wonder.

But then, I guess that's one reason I love living here so much: I LIKE funky!