Saturday morning at Smith Point...

Despite the beautifully-springlike start to the day, the walk along the beach at Smith Point was... to say the least... "bracing". The very-stiff breeze was coming from the north, across the bay, so on the beach we were a little protected, but not by much.

Back in the warm truck, my ears started to glow.

Pheasant spotting

This is weird... but I only just realised that in nine years in the USA, I had not seen a pheasant... until about 15 minutes ago.

He came strolling out of the phragmites on the William Floyd Estate side of Park Drive. And now that I've seen him, I realise that I have been hearing him quite often.

(This is NOT a signal for a whole herd of you to come rushing over here hoping to make pheasant pie for dinner tonight... he has gone back into hiding now!)

The birds are pairing up. The Canada geese are flying and swimming two-by-two. I saw one turning somersaults in the creek this morning... spring is on its way!

Cats' eyes

Another thing I miss from England.

Cats' eyes.

Not this sort... rather, the synthetic ones that are used as road markers, showing you where lanes end or where the centre of the road is. They reflect light. You can actually see the road markings when it's dark, when it's raining. A simple thing that doesn't need electricity. Invented in the UK in about 1933, when a gentleman called Percy Shaw saw a real-life feline's eyes reflecting light and patented a device that can be embedded in the road surface.

Now why the heck are they not used here?????

Gluten-free, English pancakes on Shrove Tuesday

After many recent failures with gluten-free baking (latest were "Namaste" sugar-free, taste-free, cardboard-dust muffins), I was very very happy yesterday: my own recipe for pancakes was a success!

In England, we traditionally eat pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, the day before Lent begins. These pancakes are larger, and thinner, than American breakfast pancakes, but more substantial than French crepes. We cook them in a large frying pan, and toss them to turn them over, cooking both sides. And we usually eat them with lemon juice and a sprinkling of granulated sugar.

Here is my recipe from yesterday: it's a modification of the pancake recipe on the Pamela's packet, which uses water and oil instead of milk, and which cooks fat, small pancakes.

Ingredients:

- 2 cups Pamela's Ultimate Baking and Pancake Mix (mainly brown and white rice flour plus almond meal, baking powder and a few other starches)
- 2 eggs
- 1 and a half cups milk (I used rice "milk").

Method:

Beat all ingredients together. Grease a large frying pan, heat until very hot, then add about 1/2 cup of batter. Turn the pan until the bottom is covered with batter. Cook until batter is set and then either toss to turn the pancake, or turn gently using a palette knife or spatula. Pancake is done when covered with a golden spiders-web pattern, and fully set.

Serve with fresh lemon juice and sugar!

Another good reason not to let four teenagers into the same car...

At 12.30 p.m. today, this view from the deck had power lines running across it (see pic of 'the new inlet' below, that's the same tree) ... then came a screetch of brakes, a bang, and a cloud of smoke...

View of the car from our deck. Firemen wondering what to do with it, safely, with the pole lying across the car and the road, and the lines down.

Oops. Big oops. Steering failure??? Somehow I doubt it. More like, trying to take the corner too fast, ended up in the power pole.

Happily, miraculously, all four -the young driver and younger passengers-escaped unhurt. The neighbours were all without power for a while. (How did they get our power back on while the pole and lines are still down? Thank you LIPA!)

All our wonderful volunteers in the street just outside.

Will we have a new inlet soon?

A little further to the east; metal insects on Smith Point.

Due south from my house.... the gap through which the ocean is visible. I'm sure it wasn't a while ago.

Here's the proof.

I can see the ocean!

Winds expected to reach 50 mph or higher today; already blustery, warm. Can see not only the spray, but also the waves, on the ocean. A huge truck trundles across the gap, but does not stop to unload any sand. Is a new inlet planned? Does no-one see the gap but me? Is it an optical illusion?

Tranquility?

It looked so calm and tranquil this morning... but we have sound-effects from the work on Smith Point. Big earth movers make a lot of noise.

This weekend, I realised that my house has an ocean view--just a sliver of ocean visible over Smith Point. We have seen the spray from big seas during storms, and have seen the tops of boats on the ocean, but I never noticed the blue water before. Maybe it was the sunlight hitting it just right... maybe the dunes have just worn down in this one spot... maybe I just didn't look hard enough before?

Anyway, I can now say that my house has an Ocean View.

Smith Point, new sand!

The beach is covered in light-and-fluffy new sand... and in huge tyre tracks. Part of the result of the Moriches Inlet dredging. Big Caterpillar earth-movers near the dog-friendly entrance to the beach: two cranes/diggers far in the distance to the east.

The sun was shining; temperatures way above freezing. Snow melting, icicles vanishing. A few icy patches floating in the bay. Breeze fresh and not making your face feel like it's falling off.

Fury ran and ran, even went into the water. Then slept as soon as we returned home.

Catbird likes cornbread

The gray catbird is back.

He is a fan of the gluten-free cornbread. It's very nutricious: corn, rice flour, eggs, vegetable oil... He is not usually this round--and it's not from overeating the cornbread--it's still cold outside (about 26 degrees F), and the overcast makes it feel even colder. So all of the birds look like little feathery pom-poms, all fluffed up and round.

Cold, but beautifully-so; ice-blue day

I think this is what they call, "ice blue".

The sun is shining. It's melting the snow that fell yesterday, but only in the sun-traps. The wind is blowing it off the roof in powdery crystals that light up as they fall.

I wonder if we could go skating on the wetlands?

How many pictures of sunrise can one take?

(Just as many as you can.)