This year, the season came with ice storms, blizzards, and snowy owls. Heroic snow drifts formed over Cliff and Polpis Road, then slowly melted into the turf. One polar vortex after another locked the harbor in ice and protected the scallops from rakes and drags. In between storms and freezes, we left the sofa and went in search of Snowy Owls hunting in the dunes and grasslands. The silent hunters became our quarry, just out of range of gigantic lenses. We caught them occasionally when the perched on a fence post or dead tree. Mostly, however, they flitted just barely out of our range, like the eye of God. They danced, darted, and hid. new essay by Robert Barsanti: yesterdaysisland/nantucketwinter/
Posted on: Fri, 11 Apr 2014 23:23:10 +0000
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