From Dan Gibson’s Solitudes Volume 8:
The tug of the waves at the helm, the boat heeling until the lee rail slashes the surface, the workaday world far behind. And then, the sound of the winch, as the genoa is trimmed to a new course heading between land and a few small reefs, where gulls scream at our passing. Up ahead is a small island. When we sail close, we can hear the waves crashing on the rocks. An explosion of wings and cries tells us we are intruding on pristine territory. When we change course again, a following wind drives us through the narrow mouth of a long fjord-like bay. The boat slows as we move into protected waters, and we see the cove, hidden now by sheer cliffs and a rocky point. Driftwood rises in tortured shapes from the small sand beach. On a low hill above the cove, a beaver dam and the sounds of wildlife everywhere. We drop anchor and row ashore, towards the sounds – sounds from the trees, from the pond, from the sky. Superb digital recording, as true to life, will help you recognize each creature of the hidden cove.
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