10.18.09
Sunday hike: Grand Forest
After a few days of rain, the mushrooms are ponderous and prolific in the Grand Forest.

Mushroom, Anthropologie style: nice mix of ruffles and gorgeous delicate hue.

I saw a number of these inside-out fellows. They remind me of umbrellas in too stiff a wind, ribs to the sky.

This one is the most intriguing shade of metallic purple. You know, I’m coming around on purple lately.

And this meaty guy thinks he’s a ruffled oyster stranded far from the sea.
10.11.09
Stretch Island
Yesterday we visited some friends who live on Stretch Island, about an hour’s drive away. They live amidst acres of Eden: grapes, hazelnuts, pears, and a late flush of flowers everywhere. The kids got to cut the grapes off the vine and sit on shoulders to pick the Bosc pears.

These grapes are a variety bred especially for Stretch Island, called Island Belle. There’s a fascinating history of them here. I’m going to put my steamer-juicer to work, and we’ll have gorgeous grape juice in no time at all.



You have to be careful around friends like V. I exclaimed in delight over her delicate October blooms here and she promptly dug up an armful for me. These are Kaffir lilies, and now I’ve got some of V’s blooming in my yard. They’re in glad company with some of her rosemary, yellow lilacs, and sage I’m rooting in.
09.20.09
Kayaking to Illahee
On Friday morning, B. and I paddled from Point White Pier to Illahee State Park and spent some time in the sunshine, reading this and taking in all the beauty:

Illahee Pier. Illahee apparently has various meanings, all having to do with the land. Place of rest, heavenly world, earth, or country. Section 1.2 here has an interesting history of Illahee.






We even had a visit from an otter, who swam under the pier to crack his shells and munch noisily beneath our feet.
09.14.09
Old roses and warm blackberries

Yesterday we hiked the trail around Indian Island. The water is very clear and clean, the blackberries very ripe and ready. There are even some old woodpeckered apple trees with windfall skirts and lots more little apples. We picked some (astringent, tart) and sauced them later (with sugar and cinnamon, mmm).



09.07.09
Tillicum village
We visited Blake Island’s Tillicum Village tonight–a fantastic experience with a traditional salmon-bake dinner, a performance of native dances, and time to stroll around outside in the rain-fresh air afterwards.


The salmon are baked around an alderwood fire for about an hour.

The dancer told me the headdress he wears weighs 40 lbs.




Outside, there’s a totem garden, deer grazing nonchalantly, and a little girl trying to give her mama a maori princess chin tattoo.
08.11.09
San Juan, second visit
We’ve learned something. Never try to reprise a vacation, even to accommodate a child’s birthday request. The universe has a rule that the second time can never be as good as the first, and so we found the features of this trip shaping up like this:
The original plan was to visit the San Juans by boat, borrowed boat. Just after Blain had driven it out of the harbor, the engine failed spectacularly and completely. He got to row the boat back into the marina, while S. and I paced the dock thinking of lemonade.
Having lost a day of our vacation, we set out on Saturday and arrived at the campsite to find that there was a burn-ban because San Juan county has been so dry. No campfire, no roasted marshmallows, no hotdogs. Then all that saved-up rain decided to come down on us, making the second day there sopping wet and fairly close to miserable. Oh, and the mama in this family didn’t pack anyone’s pillows because the original plan included some backpacking. What was she thinking?
We went out to Lime Kiln State Park just like last year, twice during the 2 days we were there. Did we see whales? No, of course we didn’t.
There were some bright spots, as there always are.

Black oystercatcher off Haro Strait, at Lime Kiln State Park.

Were we closer to this marine mammal than 100 yards? Guilty. But we saw the sign on our way back up, and we won’t venture that close again, even if we hear another seal making really weird sounds.

It’s pretty cute, isn’t it?

What are the kids looking at?

Clouds of clear and white jellyfish off the Friday Harbor Marina dock.

And here’s the birthday girl’s hot chocolate.
San Juan, I still love you.
07.19.09
3 hikes in Utah
A moderate one, an easy one, and a fairly strenuous one.
First, Farmington Canyon. We hiked this as part of my family reunion; age span was 6 months to 56 years. I was surprised to find the landscape so green–Utah has gotten some out-of-season rain lately, and the canyons are really gorgeous right now.

Some interesting geology shows up in the boulders along the trail:

Since the trail is creekside, with a pretty little waterfall at one point, we had dragonfly companions.

As you hike back down, you can see the salt flats stretching out in the distance. The view reminded us of a Uzilevsky.

The second hike was a short flight of steps up the side of Big Cottonwood Canyon, undertaken with the goal of having dinner at the picnic table, and one of my favorite spots in the world: Moss Ledge.


On Wednesday, B., a brother-in-law, and I hiked Mt. Timpanogos beginning at the Aspen Grove trailhead. We started at 7 am and returned 7 1/2 hours later–going from sea level to 11,000 feet in a week took my breath away, quite literally. We didn’t quite make the summit because the snow field stretches across the trail near the peak, but we were quite close–and it was spectacular.

Mount Timpanogos as seen from the Aspen Grove trailhead.

Looking back from fairly low on the trail, you can see the Heber Valley and the Uintas. As you climb higher, Deer Creek Reservoir comes into view as well.

Waterfalls you can walk behind!

We got lucky–some of the mountain goats ventured fairly close to us.

Above the tree line, you get rocks and snowfields. But coming back down again, I took time to really notice the wildflowers absolutely bursting with color all over the mountain.





06.01.09
Spring clean-up party
Franklin County, Idaho at my grandparents’ place:

My son and my maternal grandpa, 5 and 85 years old.

Look at the deer-proofing on this triangular eden! I’m green with envy, Grandma.

Some people are incorrigible collectors. I could spend a day looking at all the stuff my grandpa’s found: rocks, bones, seedpods and strange stuff. I wish I knew where he found them. I wish he knew.



The shop. Keep in mind that these are only two shots; a full 360-degree view would astound you. Say it with a Bjork accent and you’ll be close to the brilliance of peacock feathers next to rocking horses next to drill bits next to scrap lumber next to saw bands next to a dead television next to business signs from decades ago. It’s like walking into a dense poem. I’m working on it.

No more horse means the lower meadow grows as high as my hips.

Colorful, clever idea with the cups, S.
The uncut grass next to our campsite at Riverdale:

05.24.09
Just Gorgeous
Saturday at the Gorge, Sasquatch Festival:



My favorite band there: DeVotchKa. They’re better in person–on a hot day, with a limited time to play, than they are in their recordings! Nick and Jeanie sang a duet that sent chills down to my fingertips and toes.
Also loved: Shearwater and Doves.
Summer-has-arrived moment: when a cumulous cloud finally drifted over the amphitheater and everyone cheered the moment of shade. Meanwhile, the kids licked ice cream off their mouths, fingers, legs (yep) and ignored their water bottles for the camelback (it kept the coldest water, of course). And yay for spray-on sunblock–no one got sunburned. Well, edges and bits, but that happens no matter what you do, right?
Just a short drive away, the Ginkgo Petrified Forest State Park is a really interesting place to visit.

Here’s the view from the back of the interpretive center:

And the beautiful ginkgos in memory of the ancient ginkgo forest that once thrived in the Columbia River Valley.


04.26.09
Fiddleheads and blossoms



Same ferns, fading light.
I took a little walk into our woods and saw this blossom suspended by a spider’s silk:


Here’s my pretty 4-inch posy: pacific madrone bark and cherry blossoms.
