Quietude

Today's word is "Quietude."  It is a noun, defined as the state of being quiet, tranquility, calmness, stillness, quiet.

"Around the Bend"

I searched high and low for a single word used to describe "simple pleasures" or the concept of serenity through simplicity.  I didn't find anything that actually meant what I needed to convey.  So, when I was reintroduced to the word, Quietude... it resonated with me.

There was a time, when I ascribed to the fallacy that happiness has a price tag and is found with the possession of a big house, a fast car, hot fashions, expensive jewelry...not that I had these things, but I thought they carried a lot more importance than they actually deserve.  That said, I (by no means) eschew all physical and material pleasures now...  I enjoy my small, wooded home. I delight in driving my vintage (and somewhat unreliable) convertible.  I both create and own lovely, one-of-a-kind jewelry and clothing.  I actively fight the Demon of Compulsive Therapy Shopping.  I am human (and a Taurus), and I sometimes find solace in creature comforts.

"In Flight"

A slow evolution is occurring  though... I am (quickly) approaching the end of my role as an Active Parent (meaning, my child is a minor, and I am responsible for his care and behavior), and easing into what is referred to by some as the "Queen" Stage of Womanhood (more on that another day).  My priorities and needs are changing; frequently, a full turn-around from previous days.

Synonyms for Quietude include:  patience, peace, placid – in addition to serenity, stillness, and tranquility.  That is exactly my most prized (and sought) state of being.  It is what I search for during my daylight hours, and dream of during nocturnal adventures.  It's the place I feel happiest, am most aware, and am content in "My Self."

When I walk through the reclaimed estuary (illustrated in these images), I am similarly flooded with feelings of wellbeing, interconnectedness with all of Creation, and a direct link to our Living Earth.  My heart beats to the calls of migrating geese, my breath keeps time with the swells and dips of the paths, my sight drinks in the color and texture... I am nearly overwhelmed with the explosion of sensory, artistic, and spiritual sustenance.  The estuary is nearly the perfect pabulum for my Muse.  It is a brackish waterscape - cold salt water meeting fresh mountain run-offs.  Neither whole of one, or another, yet absolutely vital for the health of many.

"Flooded Pastures"

The oceans and those bodies who sustain them - the briny cradle of all life - is my "reset button" when I feel beaten down by life's slings & arrows, and lacking inspiration.  No medicine or treatment is remotely as effective as salt water is to my overall health and happiness.  A short visit fills me with purpose and vision and drive.

My Muse drives me to capture the beauty I experience... be it in photography, painting, drawing with pencils, writing, or other means. The act of Creation, fueled by imagination and inspiration, fills me with deep satisfaction and peace within myself... as though the process and product of my efforts have fulfilled a involuntary need, not unlike blinking or breathing or the rhythmic pulse of my heart.  With this act of expression, I feel peace.  A stillness that allows to me absorb even more beauty.  An inner tranquility.  Quietude.

Reclaimed Estuary

We visited the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge yesterday. I'd been wanting to visit since we first moved up to Washington (June 2001), after crossing the Nisqually River and being mesmerized by endless vista of watery, reclaimed pastures, with it's layer upon layer of color and texture.

The area had been drained and farmed for many, many years. Dairy cattle lived and dined on the rich grasses grown in the silty, nutrient-filled soils.

Since that time, the Nisqually Tribe, together with the Federal Fish & Wildlife program have worked tirelessly to allow the estuary to return.

Today, two, abandoned dairy barns sit picturesquely near ever encroaching bracken, marsh waters. The Canadian Geese mill about in throngs numbering in the thousands - their calls are deafening when they become startled and take to the skies. I was challenged by one gander. He was standing sentry on a shallow hill, protecting his mate from my (unwelcome) presence. I never really came near her, but he let it be clearly known that I was (in fact) far too close and treated me to some very obvious displays of his willingness to take this encounter to another level. As I was in his home (however transient), I moved away. He went back to eating.

The ghostly skeletons of pasture trees still dot the waterscape, providing interesting texture and contrast. I was especially intrigued by a long, leggy structure that the Mallards, Wood Ducks and other waterfowl liked to circle.

As we were finishing up our 3 hour hike (I use the term loosely - there are no inclines, and a good portion of the paths are wooden foot bridges over the marsh ground), we were treated to the sight of, not one, but two American Bitterns. Hidden in the marsh foliage, perfectly camouflaged - only the soft rustling sounds, followed by their odd, characteristic jerky movements brought our attention.

A Visit to Lake Quinault

Yesterday, we drove about two and a half hours to Lake Quinault, which is in the Olympic Rainforest. As the crow flies, it's not really that far from where we live, but it can't be accessed by "summer roads" right now and we had to drive west to Aberdeen and then north.

It was beautiful; not unlike the area I live in - only "more." By more, I mean more of everything that I see from the window of my home office. More trees, bigger trees... so much bigger. 400 year old spruces. One of the fallen trees had a section cut away to allow the path to progress. The width of the tree came up to my mid-chest (I'm 5'6"). Other fallen trees still had their root systems intact, albeit in the air... they were easily 12 feet across, if not more.

This area of Washington gets 144 inches of rain every year... Although it wasn't raining, you could see drops of water dripping from the ends of lichen and moss, and collecting in tiny streams that lead to the creek. Deep in a ravine, a "hidden" waterfall tumbled and formed rapids near a foot bridge.

This particular park is maintained by the Quinault Indian Nation, which includes the Chinook Tribe. My husband's paternal grandmother and aunt are registered members of this tribe. To park and use the trails, a (very) small fee is collected. The fee is used to maintain the trails in a safe fashion and keep the forest healthy.

It was a wonderful afternoon.

Bibliophile

Yes, I admit it. My name is Doni, and I am a bibliophile. I love books and am hard-pressed to feel the need to excuse my addiction.

Today's excursion into Port Townsend only further strengthened the undeniable "ophileness" that is me. I saw this sign, for a yard and fabric shop, and immediately was transported to Diagon Alley. Yes, I am a Harry Potter geek - one of the best series ever to get children READING!!

It also told me that perhaps I'm not as Pollyanna as I like to think I am. Pollyanna would have never associated this sign with demented ovis.

I loved it on sight. My 14-year old son further decided that the picture needed a bit of surrealist color.

Such joy to be found in the unexpected, and unexplored corners of life.

December Excursion

Port Townsend, WA ~ founded in 1851, is a city of 8,925 which prides itself on its historic charm, maritime heritage, and stunning natural setting.

What a lovely place... one I'd actually (think) I'd like to live in. On the water, mountain view (of both Cascades and Olympics), abundant wildlife and flora, fabulous art community and by all appearances, a lovely diverse and welcoming environment.

They're actively restoring 100+ year old Victorian buildings... with embellishments and bold color.They embrace the arts, support all levels of their community (The Boiler Room) with their Sunday Soup for Everyone... the corner bookstores and oddity storefronts.

I'm in love...

Perhaps, it's time to rethink our mailing address- or maybe, like many things - it is far better from an idealized distance, than the mundane reality... food for thought. A destination to look forward to....

Lo-Fi Entertainment

Sunday, we drove north and ended up in Port Townsend. It was the basic idea... we wanted to see their "Victorian Christmas" decorations before they were mothballed for another year. After a delightful day of leisurely driving, many stops to take pictures of vistas and wildlife, we encountered upon a group of Street performers. The Crow Quill Night Owls... hot jazz/jug band... complete with tubthumping and kazoo.

They were very enjoyable, very talented and a joy to watch. We picked up one of their (very environmentally friendly packaged) CDs and took a few pictures. They have a new fan.

Let It Snow

Today brought a little snow - only flurries with minimal accumulation (maybe a quarter inch). It was absolutely beautiful... like being in the middle of a snowglobe that was being ever so gently shaken by Nature.

At times, the flakes were tiny and very cold, and then you'd look back out the window and they'd be HUGE... like the cornflake snow in old black and white movies.

It felt pristine and serene. Magical.

Frigid Beauty

This winter has been odd for our area. First torrential rains... not just our usual winter precipitation, we don't mind that. We do live in the Olympic Rainforest - rain is expected... but not the 6" more than the usual accumulation we received in November.

Now it's December, and boy, is it cold! Many people don't remember this kind of cold - I know I don't. We've been below freezing for more than a week, often in the single digits. Now, the Hood Canal (a salt water body) has frozen! It's surreal to myself and others who live in an area purported to be "mild," albeit... wet (and consequently, green).

Today, I watch a seagull slip across the ice when it landed by an iced-in sailboat. A crust of ice crossed nearly the entire span of the Hood Canal, between Union and Tahuya, with only a small sliver of flowing surface at the center-most point.

Another notable event locally came in the form of odd happenings at a historic waterwheel... it even made the regional news!

The Dalby Waterwheel frozen immobile. The waterwheel was originally installed by Ed and Ethel Dalby in 1924. It was relocated and restored at another location in 2006.


Keep in mind that none of this is snow - it's been dry during this entire cold snap. Sunlight rarely or only briefly touches many areas due to the abundance of old growth firs, pines and cedars, and the reach of shadows from hills and the Olympic Mountain Range.

We're expecting warmer temperatures soon... and at least 10 days of rain (sigh) - so this unusual event will soon only be a memory, captured in few frantically shot pictures.

In Memorium

Today, Washington State paid tribute to four fallen officers - shot down, in cold blood, in their prime. The memorial service processional included 3000 cars; and, in excess of 120,000 uniformed officers from every corner of our nation, in addition to police brethren from Canada attended the 3 hour service. One of these officers grew up and worked locally. All four were people with stories, and lives and worth knowing.

Thank you for your, and your families', sacrifice. May you know peace and your families find solace.

For more information, go here.

Yuletide Procession

Living in a rural community, our traditions are held closely and anticipated very eagerly each year. Not to say that larger communities don't as well... we, I think, just place a bit more importance on these events staged so close to our homes and consisting of so many faces we know personally.

Last night was our Christmas Parade. Although it starts at five, crowds amass long before the first police siren is sounded. The goal... prime viewing, of course. We staked our "usual" spot, just in front of a business owned by friends. It was their first anniversary as a business - so the added boon of warmth and snacks were appreciated too.

Several businesses set up booths offering free cocoa and cider, the Grand Marshall handed out balloons (many of which escaped long before dark), and families set up camp... blankets, camp chairs, all-terrain strollers...

The parade began with 10 seconds of silence. For those that are familiar with Washington local news, this was in honor of four fallen police officers, recently gunned down in a coffee shop with no provocation. One of the officers, the only woman, had worked in emergency dispatch and as a patrol officer in this very town. Although I never met her (she moved on to another town before we moved here), a great sense of loss and heartbreak is shared by this small city.

Finally, it was dark and two patrol cars lit up and hit their sirens. It was rather interesting to watch the variety of reactions. Some children were thrilled and cheered, while other children covered their ears and cowered in their strollers... and parents assured them that the noise would be over soon. Personally... my children would have probably been cheering, or at least not in anyway upset. Both have been known to sleep through events like tractor pulls, hydroplane races and such.


I've noticed that smaller towns place a high emphasis on public safety and the people associated with it. Sure, police and fire vehicles are common in almost any American parade, but prior to attending this procession, I'd never seen Public Works equipment and monster towing vehicles... towing a large tow truck (with a car on it), that was towing another tow truck, etc., etc., etc. It was rather like this long tow-train. Don't get me wrong - I liked it. I'd just never seen anything similar before.

One of the best parts of parades is people watching. Children are always very excited, wriggling about - but staying close to loved ones... all the lights and sounds are a little scary. Teenagers roam around in packs, meeting up with friends and trying to look unimpressed with the parade. Adults, with children, either look harried trying to keep Junior under control and out of the line of the oncoming procession, or bored and wishing desperately it would hurry up and end. They have things to get done at home. Grandparents are usually pretty obvious - they're the ones, just as excited as the little ones. Oohing and Ahing at the sounds and lights, pointing at unexpected parade treasures like giant goats pulling the cart, instead of the tiny ponies they originally thought were there.

Occasionally, you encounter the ever-present rude people, who have no concept of anything but their own pleasure and needs. You know the kind - will step in front of someone obviously taking pictures, or will knowingly jostle a neighbor, but refuse to apologize or even acknowledge it... or better yet, look indignant because you didn't apologize for being bumped by them. But, I digress...

The usual muscle and vintage cars were festively lit up. My favorite was probably the blue Olds Cutlass. Illuminated John Deere trackors, goat-powered carts, a high school marching band, cheerleaders, Miss Forest Festival and a 20 foot tall Paul Bunyan. Nothing says Christmas like a giant man with an ax... LOL. This area's history and ecomony is reliant on timber and aqua-culture... in fact, a local high school's mascot is the "High Climber" (a lumberjack).

Finally! It's time for the big show... and Santa and Mrs. Claus arrive on top of their customary fire engine. Children and adults alike cheer and watch them approach, pass and disappear into the distance. The crowd disperses quickly and before the sidewalks are even cleared, the street sweepers and clean up brigade arrive to set things right again.

Today, the streets decorations remain, the town is tidy and our small community has been given the official go forth and be merry edict.

Happy Holidays to everyone...

Potlatch State Park

We spent a little time at Potlatch State Park, just north of Shelton, today - until my aging batteries failed me. I love this little park. The view northward is spectacular, and regardless of the time of year, made up of layers of green and blue and gray. Textures and shapes, light and shadow.


The view, looking north

We saw Common Goldeneyes, seagulls, cormorants and a lone Canadian Goose, Not sure if it was separated from it's flock, or if everyone else was just out of site. It was fairly unimpressed with us and stayed within about 20 feet. I wonder if it was hoping for a handout...


Canadian Goose

The cold winter sunshine was a welcome distraction after November's torrential rains, and we really enjoyed our, albeit short, visit to the park.