This piece of land juts out at the base of the bluffs at Dungeness Recreation Area. It’s taken a beating over the last year and is a fraction of the size it once was. We’ve paid attention to it because from time to time it’s been a perch for a passing eagle and lots of seagulls.
Here’s what it looked like about 18 months ago when we were shocked to discover a photographer and model had scrambled onto it for a photo shoot.
The trail along the Dungeness Recreation Area bluffs continues to erode, chunk by chunk. Before this part of the trail was rerouted we were shocked to suddenly discover a gap alongside it where land had previously been.
The margin of vegetation previously extended alongside the trail where the land now has a gaping hole. Wind, erosion, sandy soil, and waves pounding at the base of this cliff take their toll. Terra firma isn’t so firm here.
Incidentally, the curve of white you see in the distance in these shots is the surf hitting the Dungeness Spit, the longest natural sand spit in the United States. At its tip, a bit over 5 miles in the distance, is the (unseen) New Dungeness Light Station.
Spring day and a clear view from the Dungeness Recreation Area looking south toward the Olympic Mountains.
This is a broad view of the place I call home. You’re looking south from one of the nicer view spots, Dungeness Cemetery. In the distant far left about three or four miles away is downtown Sequim. Further south are the foothills of the Olympic Mountains and then the mountains. There are pockets of houses tucked throughout this valley. What you see here are some of our historic farmlands.
Behind you, about a couple of miles away to the north, is the Strait of Juan de Fuca. If you took a boat or plane and headed across the water in about 30 miles you’d land on Vancouver Island. If you went a bit northeast you’d find yourself in Washington State’s San Juan Islands.
I’m again visiting the big willow tree at the east entrance to the Dungeness Recreation Area. I last showed it to you in autumn here. One of my favorite trees – I walk past it almost daily – it was pruned about a month ago on its right side. Equestrians are less likely now to collide with its lower limbs.
Its leaves are just beginning to unfurl. This is a closer view with a camera-impatient robin taking wing.
I thought I would prefer this shot in black and white. And I do like the textures.
But when I went back and looked at the original again I preferred the color version. Each one highlights something different. I’ll let you decide for yourself.
This outfit is well positioned to take visitors kayaking on local waters. Local knowledge can be a matter of life and death. Last year a couple of kayaking visitors lost their lives when they didn’t take weather advisories seriously. Morning calm can be deceptive; afternoon winds can turn suddenly ferocious.