There’s a path that runs along Eastport Drive in Burlington, far more overgrown than most city trails.  It winds its way along the shoreline to a small platform overlooking Hamilton Harbour, although the view is largely obstructed by trees and vegetation.  It is not a peaceful place: behind you is the heavy drone of traffic crossing the towering Skyway Bridge, and before you is the incessant cacophony of hundreds of terns, cormorants and gulls crowding little islands of concrete and gravel.  The smell is also less than pleasant, as seabird colonies tend to be, but the opportunity witness the hustle and bustle of so many breeding birds is worth it.

I came by a few weeks ago, slipping in a page of sketches before wisely fleeing the rumbling thunderheads that had swept in while I was absorbed in my work.  I returned on Sunday to find that the small groups of bob-tailed tern fledglings had dispersed since then, and many appeared to have perished (the cause of so many strewn bodies was not evident).  A few adults were seen brooding again, one bird sheltering both an egg and a day-old chick from the blazing sun.

There is little to no shade on the islands.  This particular hairless primate wonders why they didn’t venture into the water to cool off, although such an activity may have little practical value to a buoyant and well-oiled bird.

The cormorants were sunning themselves on the far side of the island.  I love sketching these birds.  Smooth feathers and round shapes.  Perfect.