On our recent trip to the Olympic Peninsula, I was treated to many eagle sightings, including in Port Townsend, the most charming of the port towns in Washington.
Eagles or not, Port Townsend is fun to visit any time of year, with its waterfront and Victorian architecture. Weather’s good too. Sitting in the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountains, it receives only 19 inches of rain a year compared to Seattle’s 34.
After lunch, I grabbed my camera and walked around town, ending up on the waterfront.
I saw the gulls perched high above, as if on guard duty.
And then I heard their cries and knew why. Do you see it?
Look there on the piling.
While the gulls took turns diving as to drive him off, the eagle couldn’t be bothered to even look up.
While he stayed put despite the noise around him, I stood and watched the show, the eagle sighting once again, the highlight of my day.
That’s all for now.
Photography is all about the light, and the best light is arguably during the golden hour, when the sun is low on the horizon just after sunrise, and just before sunset.
So for this week’s Sunday Stills Challenge I went through my archives and picked out some of my favorites where ordinary trees are marvelous soaked in gold,
Yellowstone comes alive in the early morning light,
and Astoria glows just before sunset.
A few days away does wonders for the soul and so it was we found ourselves on Hood Canal last week.
We stopped at Dosewallips State Park in Brinnon, next door to where my mom lived for many years. Indeed, all of this scenery was in her own backyard.
We went for a walk along the Dosewallips River, and noticed the nest in the tree high above us.
And a female bald eagle perched in its branches.
We continued on the trail where the Dosewallips River flows into Hood Canal
and on our way back saw another eagle soaring high above, this one, a male.
When we returned, we saw he was now minding the nest.
Yes, it was a rather overcast day.
But this pair of bald eagles more than made up for it.
Somewhere on a beach in Oregon
and the wreck of the Peter Iredale.
For Wordless Wednesday.
When life is hectic and I’m looking for quiet I remember Hood Canal.
Where clouds like memories rest low on the mountains and mingle with smoke from wood stoves.
Where forests are fresh and damp,
and oysters cover the beaches.
I close my eyes and feel the silence.
Sharing for Sunday Stills.
For this week’s Sunday Stills Challenge, I thought of ‘seagulls’ and went to look for them yesterday at Coulon Park. It’s one of their favorite places – mine too – and it was a beautiful day for a walk.
They were out in great numbers – congregating on log booms –
or perching alone, like this one, on top of the Lifeguard station.
I believe they’re Herring Gulls or Western Gulls though it’s their secret and they’re not talking.
According to The Wildlife Trusts website
“Gulls are members of a large, widespread family of seabirds. Often known as seagulls (though no species is actually called a seagull, and many are found far from the sea), they sometimes get a bad reputation for stealing chips. But gulls are intelligent, adaptable and often beautiful birds.
However, they’re notoriously difficult to identify. Entire books have been dedicated to telling one gull from another, but even these barely scratch the surface. Their plumage changes as they age and there’s a great deal of variation within species.”
This handsome boy seemed like a different species altogether though he’s likely just a youngster.
I watched him a while and he seemed to watch me back, happy I’d taken note of him.
Regardless of the species I love to watch them fly, a bit envious of a superpower they take for granted.
And that will do for Gulls.
“Do you know how many times you’ve said ‘okay’ in the last minute?” she blurted out.
(Twenty times by my reckoning. She was not the only one counting.)
He stopped. Public speaking was not his forte, though economics may have been.
“Twenty-three times!” she announced.
“Sorry,’ he said. “Didn’t know I was doing it.”
The rest of us knew and thanked her. We were on edge waiting for the next ‘okay’ and winced when it came. No sentence was immune.
“I’ll work on it, okay?” he promised. “But when it’s quiet you’ll know what I’m thinking, okay?”
‘Okaaaay!’ we shouted.
One day earlier this week, the wind and rain had finally stopped, temperatures were in the 50’s and the sun was shining. Inside the house, our carpets were being cleaned so to stay out of the way I sat in the backyard to watch the birds.
I’d put up new feeders recently, with seeds and nuts, to help my little birds over the cold spell.
I could hear the nuthatches and chickadees talking.
“Sue, come look! No food left!”
I did, and there wasn’t. I quickly refilled the feeder and the nuthatch appeared first to eat.
The chickadees were next.
Then, more chatter.
“Hey, Sue! You forgot the suet!”
Indeed, I had.
“I’ll get right on it!”
The chickadees were grateful.
Today, we’re back to rain and cold and dreary skies.
But at least we had one day of spring this week.