A Spring Tide

I learned something new yesterday. Even though it is November the tide was a Spring Tide. I am told by my friend Damon who knows all things that a Spring Tide is one that happens at the time of the full moon whenever the moon and the sun line up on the same or opposite sides of earth so they are both pulling together. That is in general twice a month, approximately new moon and full moon. Other factors contribute such as apogee or perigee of the moon and earth orbits.. This means that the high tide is higher and the low tide lower than on other days of the month. Some Spring Tides have more “spring” in them if you will.

Normally the difference between the low tide and the high tide is nine feet in our harbor but yesterday it was fourteen feet, an impressive tide when you are measuring it off a pier where the marks are straight up and down but even more so along the beaches. I went out to Good Harbor Beach a little before 11:09 when high tide was due and there was water everywhere. Not just covering the beach but deep into the marshes that surround the dunes. Mark’s house looked like it was on the tip of a small peninsula extending deep into the sea. He always refers to the marsh behind his house as a tidal marsh. That was beautifully obvious yesterday.

I love living in awareness of tidal variations and the phases of the moon and of the seasons. The changes of season is an important part of life for me. It serves as a reminder that change is both unavoidable and predictable and there is no point in arguing with it because you will lose.

When I lived in Houston I lived in the city where there was less nature to observe. Still there were those skies. The sky is very big in Texas and the clouds look like mountains towering up higher than I had previously known there was room for in the sky. So, for all the lack of flora and fauna, there were clouds and magnificent ones at that.

The Native Americans called the moons by poetic names that reminded them of what the month ahead meant for them. This full moon was called a Beaver Moon and was a reminder to start gathering furs to provide warmth in the months ahead. Last night’s Beaver Moon rose huge and brilliantly orange out of the ocean. I have seen these mammoth autumn moons before but they are still a wonder.

I love the light of autumn. It is a light for showing off the subtle variations in color that does justice to the rocks and wild grasses and tree barks that are overwhelmed by the more brilliant light of summer. That is a good thing to think about, too. Brilliant light can overwhelm subtle beauties. It takes a soft light to show their true richness. That’s a worthwhile life lesson.

I went to the top of the hill overlooking Good Harbor Beach and took a few photos looking down onto the beach and the tidal marshes behind them. The bridge in the left center of the photos is usually well above the water but yesterday it barely cleared it for a little while. The tide moved fast. In an hour the wet sand that showed where the high tide mark had been was a good fifteen feet beyond the surf. By evening the water was past the rocks at the base of the hill.

I don’t know what I’m going on about except that it was a wonderful thing to take an hour out of my work day and drive out to the beach and just watch the water sweep in and cover the land. The bittersweet bushes full of bright orange berries seemed to glow against the clear autumnal blue of the waves and the beach roses are gone now and plump, tangerine-colored beach plums have taken their place. It is November. Life is changing and it is all good.

Thanks for reading.