Another paddle around the point. Hard to believe it's 7 pm as we put the canoe in. Feels like noon.
The tide is high, unbelievably high, all the usual landmarks submerged. The tiny brackish lagoons in the Lang Creek estuary have become miniature lakes, their entry ways flowing rivers. We shoot the canoe down into one, riding the unbelievable influx of seawater, then back out again, paddling like mad against the rushing current.
Three blue herons on three wood poles, silhoutted by the sun, and a dance of insects all around. Robins swoop to and fro, gracefully and casually snapping them up in flight. Younger robins to be seen now too, clumsily imitating their parents.
There is a thrumming in the air, a vibration, like a peaking test tone run through a low pass filter.
I think the summer has finally arrived.