The Dunes Saga

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The Dunes Saga Page 5

by Kate Everson


  Chapter 5: Sunrise in the Dunes

  It was sunrise in the Dunes. The light was slowly spreading through the sky, bouncing off the tall cedars and whisking away the tiny drops of dew on the flowers.

  Yet, the moon was still up. There it was, three quarters full, peering through the cottonwood trees.

  I loved the softness of dawn. Especially in the Dunes, where the sand was a cool carpet at my feet. Oh, there were a few mosquitoes, but I was prepared, my hood up, a bit of spray on my exposed skin, and a hardy attitude. Nothing could deter me from my moment in the sun.

  I loved it here. I didn’t care if it was just a small space in a very large provincial park. Hardly anybody came here. There were no marked trails, and I only saw a few other footprints in the sand besides my own and the creatures of the Dunes.

  I felt sad the turtles were gone. I remember how excited I had been when I first saw them laying their eggs in the sandy hills. Two of them, only a few feet apart, patiently laying their next offspring. Would they last 50 years or more? Statistics were sadly not in their favour. But still, it had been amazing to be so close to them then. At their time in the sun.

  There was so much life in the Dunes.

  Secret lives going on all through the sand, in the swamps and the cedars. Even the cottonwood trees, losing their limbs one by one, still sent out blankets of seeds, like snow in June, floating over the countryside looking for safe harbour. Hopeful in the seed of new life.

  I loved watching the birds building nests in the trees or in a hollow log or hidden in the bushes. Sometimes they would get nervous when I walked by and start chirping away feverishly. Get away! Get away! But I only wanted to look.

  There was some tiny bird I heard from a long ways off, just going crazy in a thicket. I came closer and it popped out and perched on a stump, its little spiked tail flitting up and down. Its raucous call was much bigger than it was! I laughed.

  On another tree a flicker with a red dot on its neck peered down at me, imperiously. Would I come closer? It seemed uncertain whether to go or leave. Finally, it flew to the top of a dead branch on the cottonwood tree, poked its beak in a hole, and forgot all about me.

  Their lives seemed so uncertain, always wary of predators, yet always jubilant. Always flying high. Not wasting any time on worry, and certainly not on despair. They were a cut above us, for sure.

  I loved looking at the footprints in the Dunes. The tiny marks left by creatures I will never meet. Little bird feet, making a winding trail all over the sand, winding around flowers and up a hill and down again.

  Larger, deeper prints of animals were hunters, the skunk, the raccoon, the coyote. And leaping over it all in huge, long strides, the deep hooved tracks of deer.

  I imagined if I came there really early, before dawn, and sat there hidden, that I could see some of these elusive creatures. But perhaps not. With my human scent, they would spot me a mile away.

  So I came now at dawn, at half light, before the sun was fully blazing down on the Dunes, but late enough that the dampness had lifted off the land. I wore jeans and a sweater and thick socks to keep out the chill. But I knew that in less than an hour, that would all be changed. The light, that amazing sun, would shine through.

  The sky would clear and the sun would pour over the land. The birds would soar into the blue and greet it with love.

  This was a perfect time. For all of us.

  There was my goddess of the Dunes, greeting the morning sun. Despite having her upper limbs blown off in a storm, she stood triumphant. A flock of geese flew over, as if in a ceremonial flypast, saluting her.

  She was alive in the Dunes. Not even bothered by anything, let alone a loss of a limb! I could take comfort from that. Strength that goes more than bark-deep.

  By the time I walked out of the Dunes, the dew was almost off the tiny purple flowers, evaporating like mist. Each tiny petal tugged at my heart. Small, almost unnoticed, they made a testament of life in the Dunes. Strong, beautiful.

  The birds called, the trees soared, the flowers opened up their petals to the Light, and the sunrise in the Dunes was gone for another day.

 

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