A Last Hurrah + A First Start

I had another New Year fall upon me. Why does this keep happening to me?

 

With Sue visiting Washington for 10 days over the Christmas-New Year Holidays; we had seen family living here in Washington, we had talked privately about many things and we are in agreement that we are unsure of what this New Year of 2022 AD will do for us or to us. 

Sue has a boarding pass with her name and assigned seat. She will be leaving on a jet plane, don't know when she'll be back again. We have today together and then she will be gone to Texas.

 

High tide at Larrabee SP

On her last full day here, it is decided on the spur-of-the-moment to go north up the coast. Peeling off the interstate, we sweep across low farmland and skirt estuaries until Chuckanut Drive climbs the defiant, stony headland cliffs; I steer around hairpin turns on a narrow roadway chiseled into the rocks. Conifers on the right, Samish Bay on the left, we cut through the mist that drifts through the trees and patches of recent snow. Our destination, as much by happenstance as by plan, is Larrabee State Park on Samish Bay. 

 

 

 

At my instruction, Sue pulls the Discover Pass out of the glove box and puts it on the dash. With the pass displayed, we are paid-up legal visitors to the coastal preserve - we are the only ones in the park this cold morning. I like it.

Hiking down to the water, the tide is in and the tide is high. Not much beach to access. Opting for a hike along the brim of the sea cliffs, we trudge through mostly mud, some remaining snow and ice. The fog descends, only to be swept hither, revealing tankers navigating through the waters of Puget Sound around the islands. In a moment they are hidden once again in the silent fog.

 

A cold wind and ice pellets drive us from our sea cliff hike

 

 

 

 

Standing under pines among rocks wrenched sideways by tectonic forces, we inhale a fog-muted water view. The winds kick up and we are driven from the cliff face trail by cold blustery gusts and a wintry mix of ice stabbing our exposed chees and cold cutting through our clothing. 

 

Back in the 4Runner, I set the dash controls to blast out some heat on our feet and fingers. Cruising back south, hugging the cliff, I pull off and park on a wide shoulder. We have chosen the Oyster House for a late, warm lunch. It is  a small restaurant hanging over the water. 

 

Excellent choice. It was an exquisite dinning experience. We enjoyed viewing the weather changes over the water as we dined. We shared the view with an eagle perched on a tree top outside our window seat, we both watched oystermen doing their work in Samish Bay below. We sampled a variety of oysters with melon and briny finishes and sipped an Oregon Pinot Gris.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A fine dining experience at The Oyster House on Chuckanut Drive

 

Sitting at an intimate table, oysters as appetizers and chased by a fine vintage from the stemware, I look across to my dining companion and I think I am in love. I confess to her that this is my ideal day; spontaneous, adventurous, intimate, quiet and rich with the finest and best things in life. I ask, "Won't you consider coming up to our new house and joining me here. I think I am ready for that. What do you say?"

 

Last Hurrah on an Ideal Day

The sentiment is shared, but so are the doubts of finances, timing and logistical details of leaving one life and its deep grooves and making a new one. It doesn't happen instantly or all that easy.

We ponder the future.

Today is our last hurrah for our time together. 

 

I say that I believe that beyond this last hurrah, we are at the cusp of a first start. 

We vow to talk of many things; to remember our last hurrah and to envision a new start.

***

Up early, we quietly exit our Airbnb, loading her minimal luggage into the 4Runer. We grabbed a hearty breakfast at the Farmer's Cafe in Stanwood, wiped our faces and joined the commuter traffic heading into Seattle. It was a quick unload and a peck on the lips in the outer lane of the Sea-Tac drop-off zone. She grabbed her gear and slipped into the masses at the Alaska Airlines terminal. She was gone.

 

Exiting the airport, I continued on south to Tumwater to tour my sister's brand new home, filled with unpacked boxes. I was there to see Sheri's washer, dryer and fridge coming to be installed. So pleased that they have a grand, new home to begin 2022. 

 

May it be the same for me.