Upon the jagged cliffs we wait,
Binoculars close at hand.
Scanning the shore for the little birds
That nest there in the sand.

They come back every summer,
Although we question why.
The beach on Shepody Bay is cold
And the wind is always high.

But to the tiny Sandpipers,
A haven is this place.
They build their nests upon the sand,
Away from the human race.

Surely no other creature
Would fancy such rugged terrain.
Every time the tide comes in,
It’s foggy once again.

They come here by the thousands,
It’s a spectacle to behold.
There’s even a festival named for them,
And everyone’s welcome, I’m told.

We are not meant to understand
Why they choose to migrate here.
But we come back to watch in awe,
When they return each year.

- Annabel Sheila
  Submitted By: Nancy Crossman