The Sandpiper

Celia Thaxter

The Sandpiper "Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sand-piper and I; and fast I gather, bit by bit, the scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, the wild wind raves, the tide runs high. As up and down the beach we flit, one little sand-piper and I." WHEN ONE THINKS of a shoreline, the sight and sound of wildlife is certainly part of the experience — especially the birds. Seagulls are seen calling from high above, to be sure, but it's the little scurrying knot of sandpipers that bring joy to the scene. They prod, bustle, and poke, then suddenly rise and fly off in a whirl of hurried purpose … only to land a few feet further and begin again. Here…

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Mirador (Digital) - 1 Issue, Volume 1: Sand and Sea

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