Harlequins, Beavertail

In the early afternoon, I dropped my wife Pam off at the airport in Warwick, Rhode Island, for her flight to join her two sisters in Florida for their annual retreat—no spouses desired. As I headed home, I thought about hiking destinations, and even though the day was chilly and made more cold by a strong breeze, I opted for a much overdue trip to Jamestown's Beavertail State Park. When I lived on Jamestown more than 40 years ago, Beavertail, the rocky southern tip of the island, was a frequent destination, and as I worked my way through a wind that sometimes brought tears to my eyes, I drank in a rugged beauty I could never get enough of. On the eastern side of the 'tail, there was less of a breeze, and there were numerous rafts of sea ducks taking advantage of the easier conditions. I had feared that I would arrive too late in the season to spot a Beavertail specialty, the aptly named Harlequin Duck, which looks like it was designed by a Creator on LSD. Happily, luck was with me, and the Harlequins, many of them in mated pairs—the female is the most modest of the two—were still working the shallow waters for fish and invertebrates. I carefully walked down the rocks to spots closest to the shore, out of the wind, and bearing outcrops on which I could steady my long telephoto lens. Praise be... my hands still worked.