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Log-A-Rhythms. Logging On And Off.

November 14, 2008

When I looked out of the bedroom window our first morning here on the island, I noticed a log bobbing on the water next to the bank only a few feet from the house. 

An ordinary log as logs go, but its size was a little unusual; unusual for something that large to have been left there, or to have even been there in the first place. Not the size “timber” that could have fallen off someone’s pick-up truck or was intentionally rolled there; or could have been hauled to that spot without the use of a heavy duty piece of equipment.

And I have been observing the daily goings on with this particular log. No, I don’t spend time watching its “activities,” but just happen to notice its odd movements. The tide comes in and out, that’s a given, but the log disappears.

Okay you might say it disappears because obviously the movement of the water takes it somewhere else. But this is an inlet, a bay, and there are not too many places for it to go to without being seen. I can handle the fact that it disappears, but the weird thing is that it always comes back to the same spot. (Unless it has a 12 foot long, 14 inch diameter identical twin.) 

It seems that a brace of ducks may have found its “fraternal” twin (it’s not a case of “when you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all,” kind of thing – logs do look different), but that one “lies” about 75 feet to the left of “ours.” Yet it’s another large hunk of wood that mysteriously comes and goes. (Although I suspect this one just gets further submerged, it appears so water-logged.) 

N and I sleep really well since we arrived here; maybe it’s the fresh sea air or maybe it’s something else, but it gives “sleeping like a log,” a whole new meaning.

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