Oyster Catchers..........

On the Tuesday after Easter Sunday, I was having some adventure time with God and for myself on the island of Iona (off the western coast of Scotland). I had just finished working an intense week as a member of the program staff for the Holy Week experience, and our new guests were arriving that same afternoon---the one of my adventure. So, I needed some 'space' and thus, set out with my camera, joural, and bible....mostly in search of solace and oyster catchers. In a childlike way, I crept around the rocks, looking in every tidal pool and keeping my eyes open for an oyster catcher to capture on film. Then, I spotted one. So, I focused my camera on it, but decided I needed to be a little bit closer. So, I steathly and sneakily crept around the rocks, trying to be quite and go unnoticed. Well, in all my attempts to be quite, I took my eyes off the Oyster catcher...only to find the bird had flown on without my notice. hmmm Well, no other oyster catchers were in view, so I turned my attention to the seaweed, rocks, sand, and things and headed south. About forty-five minutes later, I still had no luck in finding another oyster catcher and had thus found myself back up on the road.

So, I decided i would travel north along the beach this time instead. As I headed north, I came to a 'crossing' where some grass was over hanging a tidal pool on one side and the other side was all rocky. I thought to myself, 'I don't know where the grassy edge begins and ends and will probably fall into the pool' (something I didn't want to do with my camera). So, I took two steps in the rocky direction and slipped into the next tidal pool insead. (silliness) Well, I lay there wedged between to pointy rocks chuckling to myself, and worked hard to pry myself up. Once up, I surveyed the damage. The camera, journal & bible, and even I, were all still dry---though I the odds were stacked against me---I did manage a cut in the middle of my right hand from trying to catch myself.

I decided to return to the cottage to clean my cut and then return out to the the beach and head north. So, away I went. This time to get to the sand, I took a different route entirely. I was moving northwards along the coast when I spotted another oyster catcher. this one too was far away, and I would need to get closer. In to stealth mode I went again---surprise. I crept through and around the outcrops of rocks to get closer still---again losing eye contact with the oyster catcher. I was creeping along well, when my foot slipped on a wet rock. This time however, my foot ended up in the center of the tidal pool and the water flooded into my shoe---not to mention the water all over my jeans and camera. By now I am laughing out loud to myself and anyone in earshot. I have successfully fallen twice, emersed one of my shoes, and managed to frighten two oyster catchers. Needless to say, this time I went home and stayed home.

Over the next five days, every time I saw an oyster catcher, I had one of the following problems:
no film, the wrong lens for the camera, not enough time...or something else...

So, a friend went and bought be a small, stuffed, singing oyster catcher from the Historic Scotland shop. (end of story)