Washington Tidal Pool

Anemone in Washington State Tidal Pool

Green Sea Anemone © 2010 Bo Mackison

Tidal pool discoveries from our visit to Tongue Point on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington.

While we were climbing on the slippery, blue-mussel and seaweed mixture that is exposed on the shoreline rocks at low tide, we did see quite a few tidal pools. No star fish or hermit crabs or sand dollars, but there was quite a lot of floating yellow rockweed in the pools of water.

We also saw three pools that had green sea anemones. Even though they look like underwater flowers, they are animals. As prey moves past the anemone, it shoots a tentacle or two out from it’s hidden place and paralyzes its prey, typically a small fish or crustacean, with a deadly sting. Pretty, but not such pretty manners — if you’re a sculpin swimming by.

Tongue Point Splash

Tongue Point on Olympic Peninsula

Tongue Point Splash © 2010 Bo Mackison

When we were traveling the Pacific Northwest, we walked out on Tongue Point just south of Point Crescent, Washington during low tide and checked out the tidal pools. We saw a bit of activity – a few purple and green anemones, some sea urchins. I was hoping to see a star fish or two, but that didn’t happen.

The shore at low tide was covered with mussels, sea kelp and seaweed, all slippery stuff. I wielded a hiking stick in one hand and my camera attached to a monopod in the other, and just barely managed to stay afoot. A few times we were splashed by incoming waves as the tide started rising — just added to the sense of adventure! At one point we were laughing so hard, I wondered if we’d get back up the cliff at the appointed time. Yep, we did.

I took only one lens, so my photographs of the tidal pools themselves are seriously lacking, but the scenery was still spectacular.

And it really was great fun. I’d go exploring at low tide if ever given the chance again. What amazing life barely under the sea!

Taking a Time Out

Taking a Time Out

A Place to Rest © 2008 Bo Mackison

I am prepared for the craziness that will soon descend on my typically quiet home. Usually there are only two of us to make a mess, take a shower, fix a meal, get a little out of sorts. Today and tomorrow there will be 16 people, adults and teenagers, filling every nook and sleeping in every corner. I’m hoping there is no last minute clothing emergency because the washing machine was pronounced dead by the Maytag man on Monday, and a new one can’t be delivered until next week.

This photo is my solution if there are any situations that may require a time-out. I took this photo earlier this summer in northern Wisconsin, and it always brings back memories of nearly colllapsing in one of those blessed chairs after hiking for many hours. I was hot and tired and maybe – just maybe – a little cranky. But I leaned back in the chair, solid and comfortable, closed my eyes, and just rested for a while. Just relaxed in my own little space.

Gradually, I noticed a graceful breeze, brushing over me ever so gently, cooling away the hot stickiness. The sun tucked itself behind a few wandering clouds and provided a brief respite. I heard a few birds chattering in the branches above me, and grasshoppers were doing their thing in the tall grasses. It was only a short stop, maybe fifteen minutes, but it re-vitalized me in those few moments.

So if I need a time-out over the next few days, I know exactly where I’m heading. These chairs will be waiting for me, tucked in a cranny in my mind. And if I really get desperate and I need a visual reminder, I’ll pop open the computer, and just tell everyone I’m going to check my blog stats.

What’s that you say? I cannot check my stats in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner?

Hmmmmm.

Then maybe it would be better if I take a peek while everyone else is doing the dishes…

Heading South for the Winter

Mallards Flyover

Mallards Flyover © 2008 Bo Mackison

Geese have been flying over the house every morning, and then again every evening, since September. The lake they use as their headquarters is maybe six blocks to the east of us. The cornfields where they feed are a mile to the west.  The birds often fly so close I can see them clearly from the second story window. Occasionally they appear to be nearly skimming the roof. They are truly magnificent birds when seen in flight at such close range.

But a few days ago, the early morning honking became less noticeable. Yesterday, when I went to take photos, there were only a dozen or so geese in the sky, instead of the typical hundreds. Today I only saw a pair.

I suspect most of them have packed up and headed south, like many intelligent creatures choose to do at this time of year. It’s early though. Last year, the geese were still in Wisconsin through the end of November.

Maybe they know something I don’t.

The Red Maple Tree Vs. The Gusty Winds

Red Maple

Red Maple ©2008 Bo Mackison

A few days ago I spent a long part of the day watching the outside from my window. Framed, there stood my red maple, not a big tree, but not small either. We planted it a decade ago, and maybe then it was 8 feet tall. Now it’s as tall as our two story house.

It was a gloomy day and the wind was twisting the tree every which way. Hard wind, gusty. Gray skies – a taste of what’s soon to come. The darn tree just stood there, and took all nature had to blow her way. Didn’t drop a leaf. Not one. I watched as the leaves all clung tight. I watched that tree for hours – it was that kind of day.

Yesterday the sun was bright, the skies blue and there was barely a whisper of breeze. As I looked at the tree, not a leaf was even rustling. The sun glistened on the leaves, highlighting their cinnamony-red color, and it was quite the resplendent image. But not for long. The leaves began to drop like crazy, gently twirling into a big pile at the foot of the tree.

Was nature offering me a teaching moment? What to make of the fact that with it so beautiful and quiet – now it was time for the tree to start shedding her finery?

Maybe earlier I needed to see an example of strength (the tree holding tight to her leaves) versus adversity (the high winds.)

And yesterday, the time was right to watch the leaves just let go and fall.

Life’s lessons are all around us, if we only pay attention.