Views of Sequim, the Olympic Peninsula. . .and beyond
Dear husband had a shopping list of materials for the boat so it was time to lighten his wallet in Port Townsend, the go-to place for bronze bolts, copper nails, and the other esoterica of boats. You know what “boat” stands for, don’t you? Break Out Another Thousand.
A couple is out for a day of boating when suddenly the boat begins to sink.
Wife: “You’re the sailor, honey. Do something nautical!”
Husband: “Like what?”
Wife: “Write a check!”
This shot was taken looking uphill in Port Angeles, Sequim’s western neighbor city.
In the early 1900s the hills leading to downtown were intentionally flushed away by sluicing to make it easier to get to town businesses. The downtown area was also elevated to raise it above the nearby beach. The slurry from the hill removal was dammed along the downtown streets and the lower stories of businesses eventually became today’s underground Port Angeles as the street level was filled in and raised. Uphill, this left bluffs and this walkway (and stairs, elsewhere) as one means of getting up and down.
Two things are impossible to resist in the middle of winter: color and a broad swath of sunshine.
Access to this area of the bluffs at the Dungeness Recreation Area is discouraged. It’s sandy, undercut, dangerous, and a long way down. And it’s a clear favorite for people looking for Darwin Award nominations.
A couple of years ago, on a trip to Arizona, we visited the Queen Creek Olive Mill for lunch. Lunch was very good and we finished with pieces of lemon olive oil cake. As I’m wont to do, I had it just because it sounded different. Okay. It sounded weird. After eating it I regretted not buying some to take home. Crazy good!
Fast forward to last Christmas. Our relatives gave us a gift pack of oils from the Olive Mill. And the lemon olive oil cake memory flooded back. My cookbook library yielded nothing, but, of course Google had a few suggestions. A little goofing around and fine tuning and voila! It’s not exactly a sunny lunch at Queen Creek, but it’s very close. And I’m glad I took a picture because this cake disappeared much faster than I care to admit.
For a month or two I’ve wondered if we might see migrating swans again this winter. I’ve kept an eye on a couple of fallow fields and was rewarded Monday. Trumpeter swans!
It was a small flock, lunching in a field. They ignored me until I began to get into camera range, then they’d move on. These were the best shots I could get.
Here’s lunch. This field was full of turnips and carrots left after harvest.
First we came upon this smiling face on our daily walk.
Later we found this little grin.
Is this the beginning of a happy movement? Sign me up!