There's a small power boat that spends much of the summer tied to a buoy that floats out in front of our living room, but this week they seem to be off on some excursion; perhaps to the San Juans?
In the meantime, they left the kayak that took them out to the boat tied to the buoy, and a group of Arctic Terns -- at least, I think that's what they are -- have taken possession. They spend most of the day squabbling over position, and the activity and the colors inevitably draw my eye whenever I take a minute to sit down.
Unfortunately they're just a little too far away for my camera's tiny zoom, so you can't get the full effect here, but you can at least get an impression of it. And as you can see, it's every bit as lovely on a foggy day as on a clear one -- if not lovelier.
The position of the kayak is always changing -- what with the wind and the tides and the passing boats -- and the number of birds resting and in the air constantly fluctuates (that's a gull in the foreground of the lower picture). And of course the light is always shifting.
But whatever's going on out there at any given moment, from where I sit it's still the black and white terns, the yellow kayak, the striped buoy, the red fender (even if it's hidden) and the sea.
I suspect the terns are just passing through, waiting until the weather gets cold enough to head south. But while they're here, they perfectly illustrate that old French saying: "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose." The more things change, the more they remain the same. Funny, isn't it, how much easier that is to see from a distance...