The sun casts a rainbow through my water bottle and the Cape puts a foaming collar on the marine blue. The grass has frozen spots, but the sun is winning somewhat in warmth. I pause to cherish it at my backdoor.
I'm kitting up for Pollenawatch. A Long John under my jeans, a few skins of T-shirt, a windjammer sweater, cardigan, raincoat in the rucksack, headwind shades and ‘workhands’ on. And my old, trusted runners. Ripped and torn, but with a sole full of grip.
Park at Bridie’s and then on foot. When I walk across the long parallel slabs in the elbow of Bridie Bay, I feel light as a feather. Not at once but the further the lighter. It must be the gravitational force of the moon as it is orbiting very close these days. And on this track you need every little help you can find.
Then my handy goes off. An anachronism in this stone age setting. Like a mobile cowboy I manage to whip it out in one draw as my talk-mate lives in the same pocket. It's George:
'Dusty's here, at Pollenawatch!'
'Thanks, I'll be over in three minutes.'
Around the corner lies the good old Rockièra with all its faithful friends, the 'poolrock', flanked by the 'tub' and next to that the 'sperm whale rock', which borders on the 'stone wheel' route, for slip safe access to the little beach. Down on the other side the weed-covered, underwater watching colossus 'head and shoulders', down the middle the 'rattle gravel' and in front the 'Pollenawatch rock' a ground-out rotund rock that is part of the slab under it.
I see no Dusty, but a little later when Kate walks into the water, she is there, as if never been gone. And always again that sensation 'there she is' and that fever ‘to come what may’ run into the water.
I've got to restrain myself. I would never warm up again by my car heater and being ill on your own is no fair fun. So I run up one of the 'sentinel rocks', twist out the legs of my tripod and mount the camera. Then I zoom in on Kate and Dusty and can follow them without tremble or swaying.
The video department on 'Dolphin Address' is about to overload. To that we found the following solution. I already had an account on YouTube and about a month ago I put on some 'golden oldies'. Since February 1st you can find Kate and Dusty there, along with a few others like the video of the liquid golden sunset and a fountain splash with an ensuing rainbow. Particularly endearing is the scene in which Kate takes out her seven months old son Joshua to say hello to the dolphin. Also you get a glance of the rugged rockscape in which I dwell.
The name of my YouTube account is easy to remember: 'Dustydolphinman'. Keep an eye on it, as 'without prior notice' new ones may be added.