sound off with that distant rattle carrying far and wide. On a bright summer 
     
     morning I sat having breakfast at the wide open window facing the water. The 
     
     peaceful quiet was broken when a kingfisher who had alighted atop my 
     
     stair-railing, gave out the strident rattle to warn off some threatening 
     
     blackbirds. Before another moment, I watched as the agitated kingfisher came 
     
     streaking toward the cottage, far to low to avoid a hit. I heard the dull thud 
     
     as it struck just below my window, and rose to take a look. There on the ground 
     
     lay the bright stormtrooper! Silent and possibly dead. I ventured a few words 
     
     of concern, and was answered by a plaintive low murmuring: "Look what your old 
     
     cottage did to me”; again I commiserated to the still form, that abruptly 
     
     arose, giving its familiar vigorous rattle and flew off, apparently none the 
     
     worse for it's strange morning exercise. 
     
    

    
     The last full weekend in August saw a typical wind-rain storm assault our 
     
     Island. The surf off-shore looked very beautiful, but no small craft ventured 
     
     far for several days. It is storms such as this one that bring in large 
     
     quantities of Irish moss and seaweed. In our bay, we get only seaweed, kelp, 
     
     etc. while shores washed by the open sea are strewn with Irish moss. 0n the 
     
     Sunday, I took my customary walk down the shore for half a mile to where the 
     
     beach comes to an end and the waters spread over onto marshy areas. As I neared 
     
     the end of the beach, I was much surprised to see a large animal lying on the 
     
     sand. When I drew near the inert form my suspicion that it was a seal was 
     
     confirmed. It was stretched out on its back; I presumed it dead until it gave a 
     
     movement that lifted my spirit. Such a beautiful animal! I gazed for long 
     
     moments at the fine eyes, set in its dark brown face. It was, I found when I 
     
     consulted an authority, a harbour seal, I would judge to be full grown. 
     
     Clearly, this was a result of the violent storm whose gales produced abnormally 
     
     high tides, one of which cast this seal up on the beach, stranded well beyond 
     
     the usual high tide line. 
     
    

    
     I hurried back to my cottage to telephone for helpful advice, not an 
     
     optimistic prospect on a weekend! Within a few minutes though, the Parks office 
     
     put me through to the Chief Conservation Officer, Fish and Wildlife Division, 
     
     Mr. Nelson Hurry. My concern over what was best to do for the seal was lessened 
     
     when he assured me seals habitually hual out on rocks to bask in the sunshine. 
     
     Still, I felt the nagging worry of (a) the seals ability to return, over the 
     
     length of shore where there were two wide patches of stiff sea grasses, to 
     
     waters deep enough to allow him to swim away; (b) I couldn't help dreading the 
     
     possibility that at any time on this public beach, could arrive persons on 
     
     foot, on all terrain vehicles or dirt bikes, who would take sport in molesting 
     
     a helpless animal. I knew my neighbors close-by would be interested in “my 
     
     find", so we three walked down to where the seal still lay, although it was now 
     
     on its stomach. - 
     
    

    
     As we watched, fascinated , the seal began 
     
     inching toward the distant water, stopping 
     
     frequently to relax and rest; it seemed 
     
     exhausted, as though it had taken quite a 
     
     buffeting in the storm. We soon noticed that it 
     
     was using only one flipper to help in 
     
     inching its body forward. I suppose it took half 
     
     an hour before it gained a depth in the water 
     
     where we saw it was swimming freely and we all 
     
     hoped it would soon return to its friends of the 
     
     deep. A most unusual walk. 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
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