A Novice does DE Winter Birding

I hate the cold, but there I was at the Indian River Inlet, South Side joining the joint DOS and Sussex Co. Bird Club: Winter Sea Watch!

My only second time, Winter Birding in DE; I knew the first outing would be devoted to acclimation. What to wear? Five layers did it! Two layers saved me: my Nike wind-stopper running jacket worn underneath my 20 year-old JC Penny's purple full-length down coat. I wore two hat layers: skull cap and a Nepal wool/micro-fiber lined one.

My LLBean fleece-lined jeans and shearling-lined boots worked wonders but my hands and fingers were in trouble. I headed back to the car for my "hunting muff" with the pocket for a heater pad. Now that I was almost toasty-warm I headed to the group.

Everyone was in high spirits with high hopes of a rare spot or two. One of our leaders informed that complaining of the cold was not allowed and would be met with 40 lashes.

Why would I complain? I was surrounded by happy folks with $,$$$.$$ of optics with invites to look-see! My eyes did have a bit of trouble adjusting to: is that a scoter or is that the roll of the surf?

The high-hilarity bird moment of the day was a Great Black Back who snagged and swallowed almost whole a jetty rat and then proceeded swallowing ocean water to make it "all better soon"!

Two and a half hours later...... my toes started to chill and noon was upon us. All I could think of was lunch: hot lentil stew washed down with hot herb tea.

Beach Blessings,

Fish Markets I have Known and Loved

Friends incessantly tease me about my fish market fixations. Weekly I look forward to finding my dinner catch at the local markets. This shopping adventure of My Youth is gone.

On Sunday mornings my Dad and I would buy the family fish dinner at the Indian River Inlet Fish Market.

The shopping promised a delicious dinner and yet the shop itself was a place of horrors.

Trailing clouds of cigar smoke my Dad walked into the shop full of seaweed-y-fresh and ammonia-rancid fish remains. In the case we picked out the whole fresh fish. The fish was scaled, hacked, gored, filleted, wrapped in paper, thrown on a pile of huge ice-cubes all decorated with dashes of the fish blood.

The always cheerful fish monger worked on a butcher block and behind the slop decorated with fish heads and bits of rolling eyes landed on the floor in splashes and canal-rivers. I remember a hose flushed the remains out the store and into the canal. The floor remained painted, stained and highly scented.

I was equally scared and delighted. No need to plead for an evening at Fun Land's House of Horrors!

When I made my adult return to this same store I was again in shock. Delighted as I was to find again the best fish, soft shells and scallops to be bought for 100's of miles around: the House of Fish Horrors was now a classy stainless steel surgical operation.

Beach Blessings,