Last Supper on Cama Beach

The sea was wet as wet could be,

      The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

      No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

      There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

      Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

      Such quantities of sand:

 If this were only cleared away,'
      They said, it would be grand!'

 

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

      To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

      Of cabbages — and kings —

 

-a few apt words from Lewis  Carrol

The home builder and the homemaker were walking hand in hand; they wept like anything to sense the fleeting sand... If only all our future unknowns were cleared away, they said, it would be grand!

It was Sue's last night in Washington on her summer visit to our rising home on the Pilchuck and celebration of Inga's completed Master's Degree.

The time has come, the Home Builder said, to talk of many things: of funds - and futures - and ceiling paints - of dreams - and apple orchard schemes -- and such things --

 We packed a small bag of chocolates, briny chips and pastries for our last supper together. We found a bleached log above the high tide line on a lonely stretch of Cama Beach and settled into tentative talks of our future. Much unknown, much to be decided. So many decision - so little time...

When will the house be done? Will I stay in Washington from here on out? When will my wife move into our house? What does retirement mean? Hell, what does retirement even look like? Can it be retirement? 

The time has come to talk of many things... between smirks and bites of chocolate bonbons for our supper

I feel nothing is decided. She feels nothing is settled. Why is it all so nebulous on the horizon if there is no cloud in the sky?

We walk along the stony beach, enjoying the setting sun shining on the sea.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have already felt the loss of her. It is sweet sorrow to be with her as the sun sets knowing she will depart in the morning. Cama Beach is isolated, perfect for sharing a decadent dinner above the billows smooth and bright.

 

 

 We decide little among us. We count what we have between us; trust, adoration, a future of adventure, love and a few chocolates. 

Tomorrow we will share our good byes and rock slowly hand in hand as the future breaks upon us. I tell her, 'It was so kind of you to come!'

 

 

The world is yet to be our oyster. Come lets us talk of many thins...

Barnacles and clams - resting among the rocks, for they are no oysters

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

      Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

      And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

      They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

      Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

      Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

      We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

      Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

      A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

      Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

      And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

      Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

      I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

      To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

      And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

      The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

      I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

      Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

      Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

      You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

      But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

      They'd eaten every one."

 

Mussels thick yet there were no oysters to be found

The valves of a clam without the company of nary an oyster

 

Arlington Art Walk

 

The train don't run here no more - But the old Arlington station is a good place to start an artsy stroll.

 

 

 

 

 

Arlington, Washington; Sue's hometown. 

Arlington, Washington; My new hometown. 

 

It's been a strange journey of body, mind and soul for me. In designing and resurrecting a home on the old, burned-over foundations of my wife's childhood home, I suddenly find myself at home in the dream of the new house in Arlington. I feel and realize the reality for me is my home is no longer in Texas, but on the acreage that has been ours for decades. I have found the banks of Pilchuck Creek to be where my mind and soul have been planted. I was not expecting this transformation so soon and so solid in my mind. I have changed and I have embraced the reality of being a resident Man of the Pilchuck.

 

With the days of Sue's summer visit fleeting, I suggest we tour on foot the downtown of Arlington. Old, familiar ground for her and new ground for me. It seems like something we should do together while we're together. 

 

Arlington is a small town. Arlington has been here for over a hundred years, some things have changed little, other things are added beside the old as progress would have it. The old iron rails than ran through downtown Arlington have been pulled up and the railroad right-of-way has been paved for a bicycle path and a modest art walk. Together, the hometown girl and her newcomer boy walked for a few blocks to see the local art.

 

Sue stops to smell the rose embedded in the chain link fence and skips away to make room for a large bee - or is it a murder hornet? Yikes! On to the next installation.

 

Mark gets stared down by a spotted owl. So, who's spotting who?

Sue moves among the boughs of an iron tree where an iron horse used to run.

The old iron horse is commemorated by a mural on the alley-side of a downtown business.

Sue dances away from a charging bear. Maybe this is an 'Art Run' not an 'Art Walk'.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have worked up an appetite drinking in the art; we walk a few block to La Playa Mexican Restaurant and enjoy salsa, chips and a grande burrito in downtown Arlington.

 Thou art welcome in Arlington, native or newcomer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Little Lunch and an Immodest Cone

 

I don't know about you, but a day next to saltwater always makes me hungry for a savory meal. And I would be disappointed if my meal did not include warm sourdough bread and a spread of cold butter. I was not disappointed by my late lunch at the Anacortes Marina at Anthony's.

In fact it was more of an early supper for us. We declined the bread pudding dessert and hastened back to Fir Island for one more important stop to complete a wonderful day. We were making for Snow Goose Produce stand, famous for their 'Immodest Ice Cream Cones'.

Sue reaches for her two-fisted treat

Sean licks his lips at his immodest sized cone.

 

With Mount Baker, an immodest cone-shaped stratovolcano in its own right, as a backdrop, we grab a roadside bench at Snow Goose Produce and lickity split licked up our immodest selections before it all melts away.

Sue compares her dessert to the size of Mt. Baker

 

Too late! The immodest size melts into my beard before it can all get into my mouth.

Eating ice cream with my wife, Inga and Sean.

A day that ends in a mess and yet it is a day of no regrets.

Deception Pass

 We said our good byes to Ko-kwal-alwoot and her eternal reign over the tide pools of Rosario Beach on Fidalgo Island and drove the short hop over the steel span to land on the other side of Deception Pass and land on Whidbey Island for a hike down to the rounded stones of Deception Pass State Park.

 First order of business is to walk back over the bridge and look east to the snowy peak of Mount Baker. Then swivel our heads and look hundreds of feet below at the surging saltwater sweeping through the pass and out into Puget Sound. It was a spectacular view anyway one chose to look.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking west into Puget Sound

Gull perched on the rocky face of Deception Pass

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We took the forested trail over the cliff face and headed for the shore below for some photo ops and unbound delight at picking up and fondling the natural beauty of voluptuous, rounded, surf-tossed igneous knockers.

Trio of Trail Turtles balanced on an old snag

Moss and beard grow thickest on the north side.

When we wander out of the forest, we take time to climb on some large driftwood, attempt to skip stones and saunter on a typical, rocky beach. 

[A side note: I was enjoying the Cottonwood Art Festival in Richardson, Texas a few years ago, and one of the artists had an artistic piece featuring some nice stones. I asked her about her art, "Are those stones from Deception Pass in Washington?"

She was stunned by my question and observation, because her answer was "Yes." 

Rocks are my friends. This interaction confirmed that I was born to be a geologist.]

I was back to be among my friends, the stones of Deception Pass.

My girl beneath the Deception Pass Bridge

Inga has a bad taste, or a bad attitude in her mouth

Rounded stones side-armed across a choppy surf does not usually yield many skipping stone bounce rings, but it is fun to try. It is always a pleasant pass time to toss stones into the sea at Deception Pass.

 

Log sitters and finger pointers

 

 

 

 

 

Rounded stones side armed across a choppy surf does not usually yield many
skipping stone bounce rings, but it is fun to try. It is always a pleasant pass time to toss stones into the sea at Deception Pass.

We left plenty of rocks for others to throw into the sea. My unanimous decision, it was past lunchtime. We were headed for Anthony's Seafood in Anacortes, home of the award-winning clam chowder.

Ko-kwal-alwoot The Maiden of Rosario Beach

Ko-kwal-alwoot Legendary Maiden at Rosario Beach

 With Inga and Sean up north for a visit and a day to ourselves, we four chose to pay a visit to an old friend, Ko-kwal-alwoot, the legendary maiden who left her Swinomish People and married the undersea god of these waters so that the bounty of the sea and forest might perpetually bless her people. The undersea god had withheld all the fish and sustenance within the ocean in order to coerce her parents to let him take Ko-kwal-alwoot as his wife. In return for her hand in marriage, the smitten god of the sea returned the sea waters to their former prosperous fishing and hunting grounds that provided food to the Swinomish.

We have always enjoyed visiting Ko-kwal-alwoot and the beauty that is Rosario Beach on Fidalgo Island. It has been remarked upon that five generations of Cooks-Sunesons have basked in the pleasures where forest and sea meet at Rosario Beach State Park.

The tide was out, leaving the always fascinating tide pools perched in the hollows of ancient rock jutting from the headland. Across the sound the snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Peninsula were rising above the blue waters. 

We hopped and teetered as we stooped to look for marine life in the pools; there were sea anemones stuck in place and if you looked and waited long enough, you could glimpse a tiny purple crab hustling out from under a stone and sliding into a bed of algae. 

Mountains of the Olympic Peninsula rise above the sound

Inspecting the tide pools for marine life

Barnacles shine like stars against black shale while sea anemones look like pimento olives tucked in the tide pool crevasses

A University of Washington Research Vessel passes in front of Deception Island

We stroll above the surf and peer over the cliff to the kelp dancing with the tide below.

 

The loop trail takes over the rocky point and gives us a view of Deception Pass, which beckons us over to another State Park and a chance to walk along the Deception Pass Bridge linking us to Whidbey Island.

On the backside of the headland trail, some say there lives the madman of the medrano. Myabe it's true, maybe not.

Is it a rare sighting of the Madman of the Madrano?