My Perch upon Delta Rock, Skagit Estuary

 A marvelous break in the gray, February skies unfolded for a second straight day. Opportunity knocks. 

Don't knock this rare opportunity I told myself, and come noon, I was lacing up my boots and ready for a Friday afternoon adventure, one well suited for playing hooky from house chores. I was headed for one of my favorite local perches, a solid conglomerate stone outcrop rising at the delta mouth on the North Fork of the Skagit River.

Delta Rock. A solid outcrop surrounded by sand, saltwater tides and brackish estuarine marsh.
 

The weather was a calm 50 degrees, the sky was mild and blue, my view spanned from the snow-capped peaks of Cascade volcanoes in east to Whidbey Island on the western horizon, beyond the channel that bordered the base of my elevated perch on Delta Rock.

Glacier Peak is in fine form above the tidelands along the Skagit River delta

I parked my SUV on the shoulder of a narrow farm road, careful not to get too close to the edge which abruptly drops off into deep ditches bordering this lane. There are a half-dozen other vehicles parked today along the road's shoulder, all of us have adventure in mind. The farm lane ends bluntly at the levee that separates the Skagit Estuary Preserve from the tilled farmland. 

On the seaward side of the levee, the estuary is flooded with shallow, standing water oozing up from the saturated tidal flat mud and covered by dead grass. The trail to Delta Rock, which runs for maybe 3/4 of a mile, is at best a long, shallow puddle of standing water on a substrate of dark, noxious bog mud. Traversing this mucky environment guarantees wet socks from the get go. The soggy boggy conditions are a deterrent to those who might have considered crossing this flooded flat. Because of these daunting conditions, I found to my great solo joy, that I had this amazing hike to myself. I was the only one this afternoon willing to travel in soaked boots and stinky sock.

I picked my way through the shallowest puddles, walking across logs which were floated into the tidal flat by earlier storms when they were available along my path until I reached my solid rock outcrop objective. The place was sunlit, peaceful, almost warm and the breeze was filled with the call of shore birds. I was alone with a serene view and a pleased mind.

Behind me were the volcanic peaks of Three Fingers and Glacier Peak, shrouded in last week's snow.

In front of me was a towering rock island standing in the channel where the Skagit empties into Puget Sound. Fidalgo Island just to the north and Whidbey Island across the waters that lap at my feet.

I feel gloriously isolated and fortunate to have this little berg for the afternoon. My senses are celebrating the textures and the colors that surround me.

 

My eyes delight in an upright driftwood snag waiting for the tide to tickle its nude, barkless base. It stands as a sun dial's crooked needle in contrast to the hulking, solid stone outcrop. The needle will soon be washed away, the stone will stand much longer.

The ever-changing ripple patterns of sand sediments after their interaction with wind and water form my very own Zen Garden to contemplate.

A web-footed wanderer has left her pattern of passing over the ripple marks of the last receding tide.

The rounded cobbles of Delta Rock are firmly bound by minerals in a finer matrix from a beach that was here in eons past.

My goal for the afternoon was to be enveloped within this sensuous experience I had wandered into. I basked in the sun sitting high on the rock. I lied on a drift of gray, micaceous sand that sparked in the cloudless sky as the fine grains slipped between my fingers. I inhaled the scent of saltwater brine before me. I listened to the subtle breeze in the junipers clinging to the stone face behind me. The air was punctuated by the call of enthusiastic shore birds. It was good to be alive.

I lifted myself up from my bed of sand, choosing to climb to the top most point on my perch where sea and land meet. I stroll to the crest of my perch, only to find that I am not alone in my enjoyment of this spot.

My ascent is eyed by a bald eagle. We watch one another. I unobtrusively attempt to take a few photos of my perch companion. I am allowed a few frames before my eagle mate expresses its wishes to find another solitary station.

This snag is a fine eagle perch to watch for things of interest out across the Skagit estuary.

 
My eagle takes flight. I wish it well as it departs with a majestic span of extended wing and I feel a bit boorish for causing it to leave our shared high perch.

With the bald eagle gone, I settle in to notice a few other powerful avian hunters in the bare limbs and in flight overhead.

Feathers free and unfurled,  a new raptor circles my perch on Delta Rock.

                                                          

 Another large bird flies in low over my head. I know the destination of this big bird, it's headed for Oak Harbor Naval Base directly west of me on Whidbey Island.

The tide rises and covers the sand bars and the spit that extended from Delta Rock when I first arrived. All is now submerged, or soon will be. I survey my return route back across the flooded estuary and wonder if the high tide will make my passage back more difficult. I think not, but time to go back after a most pleasant solitary afternoon among sea, sand, stone and a few fine feathered friends.

The edge of the incoming tide erases the ripples from the last tide.

The tide comes in quickly across the flat, ripple marked beach, covering my exploratory boot prints from moments earlier. 

Time and Tide wait for no man I am told. With the incoming tide, I decide it is time to trace my boot prints back across the stagnant shallow pools between dormant marsh grasses and cat tails.

                                                                                                                                      

It was a good day at Delta Rock.

As always, Enjoy the Journey.  

Ninety-Third! Is the Word.

 Big doin's for Dad and his 93rd Birthday Celebration.

Dad enjoys his bowl of 'award winning' Anthony's clam chowder. So bring on the chowder and let the celebration begin.

Sheri made all of the arrangements for the party, including the delivery of a birthday cake hidden away in the kitchen, awaiting sparkling candles and a post-chowder delivery.

Wendy and Barth made it over Snoqualmie Pass for the party and rode with son Brian, his wife Amy and daughter Elle.

Two-year old Elle has learned to love birthday parties and wants to know, "When is your birthday?" Hoping it is soon and that she can expect an invitation.

Of course Elle and everybody else got an invitation. Dad found his reserved Seat of Honor with a sunset view across Olympia's marina at the southern end of Puget Sound.

 The guests poured in and made their selections. 

We all ate well and then sang 'Happy Birthday' to Dear Grandpa... Happy 93rd Birthday to You!

Sheri gave Dad a bouquet of daffodils - King Alfred Daffodils are rumored to always bloom on Alfred's (Dad/Grandpa's) birthday. Sheri makes is so with a festive bunch of happy birthday flowers.

Dad hosts the event. We take a couple of parting shots in the parking lot after Wendy distributes Christmas goodies that had hitherto remained undelivered at Christmas because of the snow which blocked their travels over the pass at the time.

Number 93 doesn't come around all that often. Happy Birthday Grandpa!