This morning, my wife and I walked over to the beach to observe the angry Gulf. Since last night's storm was moving up the Eastern Seaboard, its backside, northwest winds were raking the West Coast of Florida.
Except for one daring windsurfer, beachgoers were trudging along the flattened beach, our faces turned down to avoid the blowing sand. Undeterred, a large flock of sanderlings raced in front of the crashing waves, grabbing morsels of food before they washed out of sight. Watching them, likely from the top of a condo tower, was a merlin, a small, aggressive falcon; swooping at high speed toward the flock, it attempted to snare one of the shorebirds as the startled flock burst into flight, circling out over the turbulent sea.
The effort having failed, the merlin flew on down the coast, surely watching for another flock to attack. No doubt, it had breakfast before we left the beach.
