Bob and Weave

The Black Skimmer

65 The Black Skimmer Daylight withdraws from the body of water slowly like pain. Dolphins crest off shore. Children point. Far out a black skimmer on the wing barks. The tip of its long, lower mandible cuts water, takes the sudden weight of a fish, carries it (still alive, still a silver flash) over the last glimmer of the surface, past where waves break, and drops on a shore rough with broken shells. Its white breast and belly swell above the small eye that cannot close. Another skimmer wheels and glides, red-footed, crow sized, dropping down by levels to my level, the calm look of its black eye so well adapted to the sun-sprung angles of water. It veers to give me space, and I turn to follow that flight, the black flash of wings, the white gleam of underparts, the red, black-tipped blade of a beak dipping down for more. ...