Logan's Walk

Wednesday, July 24, was a solo outing. Ann was on campus, and I was on my own.

But not alone.

As is often the case when in a new home and apart from the familiar one, thoughts of loved ones and loved places find root and new growth in the fertile soil of wandering about.

The magic of observing the new, brings to life the old.

“I wish Sarah could see that bird.”

“That surfer reminds me of Rob.”

“The boardwalk over the rushes is Corkscrew Swamp.”

“My mom would enjoy hearing about this…”

And on it goes, the more in the moment, the more stretched out the time.

The future creeps in too, in the form of “I can’t wait to tell Ann about all of today,” and thoughts of walks with her to come slip in to stride with me.

The travel along the ocean side foot and bike path was to the east that day. Dunes, grasses, and shrubs to the left, beach and ocean to the right, the Hopkins River with Logan’s Beach on the other side straight ahead.

The neatness and precision of the path is compelling. The color of the concrete, the framing of fencing, the brush and birds teasing for attention on both sides, the ocean drum beat, and the curve just ahead all demand attention and draw you in and onward.

The signage along the way is quite helpful….

Hopkins Bridge 1200 Meters.

Keep To The Path

Beware Of Snakes (making the preceding sign a bit superfluous)

Please Share, Keep to Left

Travel Slowly, Think Of Others

Just a bit past Granny’s Grave the path rises to meet a small field over looking the mouth of the Hopkins and the estuary feeding the ocean through it. This field is home to many rabbits, making it an extra special place.

Across the Hopkins River Bridge, I come to the Logan’s Beach information signs and toilet block, i.e. public bathrooms. I learn about the salt wedge - colder salt water that moves up stream against the current. It sneaks in along the river bottom, and being more dense it slips in and upstream under the fresh water going the other way.

There is a lot going on under the calm surface.

Next up the hill to bluff overlooking Logan’s Beach, and Logan’s Beach Lagoon, a winter (it is winter here) calving ground for the Southern Pacific Right Whale.

The signage tells me the name Right Whale comes from them being the right whale to hunt, as they were slow and they floated once killed. Sixty thousand plus in the hey day of whale oil and corset stays, down to three hundred or so when whaling stopped, and now up to about twelve hundred.

And then back across bridge, up hill to bunny land, and on to curve of Lady Bay back home.