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Bbrrriiinnngg! I reached over and slapped the alarm clock quiet -- 5:25 -- time to get up and get ready for work. Still dim outside in early spring. Get downstairs and start the coffee, slip outside and walk up the drive to get the paper. It's chilly, a little mist but no wind, the forecast is for a clear day later on. Things to do and places to go -- my mind is already starting to fill with the occupations of another work day.
As the car rattles over the gravel, I grope for the radio dial, for the news, and head for Orleans.
I say good morning to the osprey, standing now on the side of the nest, way at the top of the old Marconi tower. With a big stretch of wings it poses, momentarily, on the edge of the world, then drops off to the east. What a curious mix of manmade and nature in that sight, I think ... could also be a traffic hazard.
Up by the old hotel, and then down again by the head of the cove, watching the gulls wheeling and scolding their brothers who stand waiting for another alewife to try the run.
"The second week in May..." I think, and then lose the thought in the latest words from Washington, or Wall Street, or someplace like that. Power now, up the hill by the Ryder House. Glide now, down the big hill to the Wading Place. Tap the brakes at that odd curve in the road, watching for cars/watching for people on the verge -- there are none this early in the day this early in the year.
I almost missed seeing the tall dark form against the marsh, as a blue heron waited for the tide to sweep bait by for him at his turn in the creek bed. I wish I was that sharp-eyed now, I think, now heading inland, the car banking and turning by the homes and the bogs, and finally straightening out for the last glimpse of the water by Tar Kiln Creek.
Someone is coming up the stairs from the beach -- I can just see the tip of a rod coming out by the road. Just a kid, a boy maybe 12 or so, and his left arm is stretched down trying to keep the fish from dragging on the ground, and he flashes me a big grin as I rush by.
"Right," I think, "second week in May, first bass of the year."
Tomorrow's Saturday!
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