Raven and Sparrow

Walking uphill and downhill

 

 

The weather has been so nice that we have been seizing every opportunity to be outside. This weekend we just walked up the hill behind our house and were rewarded with a different aspect of the beautiful views we nearly (but not quite) take for granted. Last weekend we went the other way and bushwhacked our way down to a little cove along the shore to the north. There aren't too many places to get right down to the water along our side of island so we enjoyed sitting right by the sea. Hooray for summer! Bring it on.

Lake in the woods

Spring has been iffy for a couple of years now, so we were delighted with the gift of a lovely day in April. We celebrated by walking around a woodland lake. All of the woods in the center of our island have been saved from logging and development, including this pretty pond called Little Cranberry. When Mike was young this was his playground. It is ecologically interesting because it has two floating islands. One even has trees on it. There is a trail that goes all the way around the lake, threading its way between the trees, the rocks and cliffs of this very rocky place, and the water. In a couple of places it is  narrow indeed, but we managed to keep our feet dry.

Spring is budding up and blooming everywhere you look.

Zig and Zag, the Omelet Brothers

Last year Mike and I were strolling down the hill to visit our beach when we spied, attached to a slender twig right next to the trail, a tiny grass cup studded with sea green lichen. It was a hummingbird's nest and we assumed it was old and empty, but when we peered inside there were two eggs the size of Chiclets. We immediately removed ourselves from the area and kept watch from a distance as the eggs hatched and the babies grew. Mike was lucky enough to go down with the camera on the day the little birds fledged and get this picture before they flew away.

We have been slogging through the endless details involved with finishing our house. Well, really, Mike handles the endless details and I come home from work and say "Is that all that got done today?" We are aiming for the last week in May to move in and the time is getting very short. The main hold up is the finish carpentry, which is taking forever. We can't move anything into a room that still needs floor or ceiling molding and most of the rooms do. Windows are being framed beautifully, but ... slowly. We can't push the stove into place because the gas terminal behind it is too high and sticks out too far. The panels for the front of the fridge don't fit and must be remade. The interior doors have yet to arrive. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Now that the time is almost upon us I have been remembering what it was like when we first moved here permanently. Mike's health wasn't good and we decided we had to shed one of our houses. This was the place we really loved, so we rather suddenly sold our big suburban house, put everything in storage and settled into our problematic paradise. As the door rolled down over the packed storage unit I wondered how long it would be until I saw my stuff again. Answer: five years. Now a new house stands almost ready and I marvel at what we have brought into being. My old life is about to pour out upon me and I must winnow and choose what I want to bring forward and what I no longer need. This is a daunting prospect, but underneath it all I know I have been so lucky. When I'm not complaining I'm full of wonder and gratitude.

The Power of Place

I have been thinking about places. My parents recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary and at the party I gave an overview of those years, since I'm the oldest and have been around for most of them. I found that the best way to organize my memories was around the town we come from and the houses we lived in. So I've been revisiting the places of my past in my mind and have wondered at the power of a place to influence perceptions and feelings...or do perceptions and feelings create that power? It's got to be both of course, since its so hard to separate one's inner life and outward actions, but I have always been susceptible to my surroundings and I do think every place projects itself on the events that happen there. Locations seem to me to have their own sensibility, formed from their physical attributes like topography and weather, and from the things that have happened there on scales large and small. When I review all the places I have lived, some have had much more impact than others, and it isn't necessarily related to how long I was there. I could talk about the spirit of a place and make sense to myself because everything participates in the energy of existence. I have been fortunate to live in regions with strong spirit and great beauty, and in some houses and neighborhoods with character and charm. I have also occupied some spiritless spaces, and I always find I am less myself in them. I feel a strong need to make changes in my surroundings if I don't find them congenial. I'm sure I'm not alone in this; the home decor business must be based on the common need to draw one's space close about. In fact, I think many people want to interact with their surroundings and can indeed take action to increase the spirit of their place.

Island Summer

This was such a wonderful summer here in the San Juan Islands. Day after day of clear sunshine and warm temperatures. After a freezing winter and a chilly spring the change was very welcome. As often happens, summer continued through September and into October, although the shortening days were an unmistakeable warning of approaching autumn. This week the switch was thrown and now it is definately fall. On Saturday we had a record rainfall. Over an inch in one day...it was pouring! You can tell by the brown grass that it was needed though. This little buck comes into the yard every day. We thought it was for the apples that fall off the old tree in front of the house, but it turns out that he prefers the bird seed in the feeder.  

Sunday at Ala Spit

Yippee! Today is Sunday, the weather is perfect and I don't have to work!! Instead of dragging myself off to Home Depot this morning, Mike and I took Sunny to Ala Spit. It is a long, curving sand protrusion into the salt water, with no trees but lots of driftwood. In fact, there is so much driftwood that people have used it to make shelters; its the largest collection of driftwood houses I have ever seen. No one else was there, so Sunny got to run and play like a puppy. She doesn't like to walk on the shifty pebbles that most of our beaches are made of, and usually will jump from log to log as she makes her way.       These last two weeks have seemed endless. They were busy, since there are so few employees to cover the store, but still....long. I hope I have done the right thing in changing jobs, and of course until I start the new one I won't know, but this morning was great. I hope you are all having as wonderful a Sunday.

Mysterious activity

Today while I was puttering around trying to restore some order to the house I heard the low whumpa-whumpa noise that heralds a helicopter fly-by. There is a naval base close by so its not terribly unusual, but this time the noise was loud and near. When I looked outside it was right off the edge of our hill and the wind from its rotors was ruffling the trees. For over four hours it flew back and forth in front of our house, obviously looking for something. It was joined by four boats, one marked Vessel Assistance, who slowly circled in the gap between the little island down below and our rocks. I haven't heard any word about what they were doing, but it is hard to avoid pessimistic assumptions. We live around the corner from Deception Pass, where ferocious currents sweep between the narrow cliffs of two opposing islands. Anyone unfortunate enough to fall in is swept immediately in the direction of the tide. I hope today's activity was just a training exercise, but it looked more like a serious search. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

On the rocks

Finally, finally, the sun is out and it feels like summer might be coming after all. This morning was so fresh and lovely that Sunny and I ran down to the rocks before work. We have a tiny beach that is almost inaccessible, but also a much more easily reached rock shelf that allows us to approach the edge of the water. This morning was so clear we could see across Puget Sound to the Olympic Mountains, just faintly visible in the distance.

There is quite a drop-off to the water, which is about thirty feet deep. Sunny likes to go right to the edge and check for seals or birds that need to be barked at. Then she finds something fishy to roll in.

The scent of the air this morning was a delicious combination of salt water and seaweed. Every summer morning of my childhood smelled just like this. The lapping of the waves, the cries of gulls, and the drone of distant boat motors also could be coming from forty years away.

The kelp beds are not too extensive at this time of year, but some of their thick rubbery tresses still loom up out of the depths. They are great cover for fish, and the word is that fishing is good off these rocks. We have never tried. This morning tiny silver fishlets flicked and flipped and glittered over the surface of the water like little acrobats . They must make good food for the bigger ones lurking below.

Wild Life

This little rabbit lives under our back step. We see it every morning and evening out our kitchen window. When we first spotted it, it was about as big as my fist, but it has grown in the three weeks we have been watching it. Mike has let the grass get long to give it some cover, although Sunny often naps in blissful ignorance while the bunny munches about three feet away.

Also, check this out. A white quail. It is a member of the wild covey that lives up the hill. This is only the second time I have seen him and the first time (to my knowledge) that he has come down to our feeder. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for his safety, because unlike his wife and his other relatives, he does not blend in. Does anyone know if this is a common mutation? I have certainly never heard of it before. Last week we found a dead female quail in our living room, amidst the shards of the window she had flown through. Poor thing. Her feathers were so exquisitely patterned. I was surprised at how heavy she was for such a small bird, but that is probably why she broke the window. Our living room with glass on three sides is a death trap for birds, unfortunately. Occasionally even hawks will try to fly through, but only the quail has actually broken in. When a bird hits the window it makes a big scary bang. Often it is just rattled and can fly away after a little readjustment period, but sometimes thats all she wrote. There are fewer bird deaths now than there used to be, although I don't know why. I do know that I love the birdy activity.

To change the subject, or at least revert to an older one, it is a little ironic that about a week after writing about my happy art school experience, I met two of the women in my graduating class at a Home Depot training. It was a three day class on 20/20, the computer program our kitchen designers use, and I have been lobbying hard to be sent for over half a year. I went expecting to know no one, and was amazed to find that the entire first row, including me, graduated from Cornish Institute in the same year. What a blast from the past. We had a great chat about our old classmates and teachers, and commiserated with each other about ending up at Home Depot after such an extensive and expensive education. Oh well. Ever since I returned from that class I have been designing kitchens, with help from the more experienced designers in my store, and work has therefore been more stressful and much more interesting. I'm not officially a designer, of course, as that would involve a raise, but finally I am doing what I hoped Home Depot would let me do when I first decided to apply for a job. In about a month and a half, I will have worked there for a year.   

Spring chill

Last week I thought spring had finally sprung; the flowers were blooming, the air was warm and the birds were singing. This week it snowed. After the official frost-free date for our area too! I can only remember one other year when snow dusted the cherry blossoms, and it was a long time ago. We aren't used to such cruel tricks from the weather here in the Pacific Northwest, although we should remember that when we complain about it.

I left for work early this morning because I was worried that the roads might be slick, but they weren't. That gave me some time to wander around the Skagit valley and take photos, which was a pleasant way to start the day even if it was freezing. The emerging tulip fields made an interesting color contrast to the gray sky.