Mud flats 2005

I strain as my vision sends me forward into the vast distance,
The breakers have subsided,
And I see the mud flats teaming with hunters,
All privileged to bide for the probe,
Elegant beaks with unique shellfish techniques,
Even the bald eagles lull and socialize further out,
Where the seas force to draw more of the flats is futile,
I have walked and ventured out onto that slippery surface,
Hoping to catch perhaps a clearer image of my objective,
But that stubborn Vancouver Island and it's many islands of the gulf,
Are still a mere mirage all longing to claim a moment of presence,
In the Artists hopes,
I would paint quicker,
The tide rushes back to shore mercilessly,
Everything is lovely and alive,
The kelp and shore vegetation worry if their haven will be permanent,
Only the silky proceeding waters bubble and squelch,
The tease of flow has won,
At last the umber sands of mud in their watery spaces,
Begin the parade to reconfigure back to a jigsaw of change,
And later the reveal of new muddy islands,
With the familiar washes and streams seeking to drain,
One could challenge the waters of this Strait,
To put the mud flats exactly right back to precision.