The water is calm this morning, with that particular surface viscous oiliness, like the Ganges at Varanasi.
You who build these altars now
Spent most of Christmas Day in bed, blanketed against the cold and indulging a post-decision depression to the hilt. Bestirred myself by oooh about noon to walk along the beach to Old Man House Park, site of the last winter house of the Suquamish people, burned down by BIA agents in 1870. To prevent the spread of smallpox. Yeah, right. We know what's best for you. Go farming now and forget that you are fishing people, people of the clear salt water. Go on now, we know best. Shoo! shoo!
If this were a cowboy movie, now would be the time for the level gaze. I know who it is cannot meet my eyes today. Shame on you!
Boxing Day, I did manage an earlier start where, to my delight, I found a seal in my sunrise and lovely mysterious saffron mist, forcing me to focus on the here, now. Let what is to be take care of itself. For now, there is abundant nourishment, here. Or so the happy fish-chomping seal seemed to be saying.
A single white feather floated on the Salish Sea. Though I wasn't looking, a message was delivered into my hand.
A few miles from where I live is a 425 acre piece of naturally forested county land, which has recently been set aside as the North Kitsap Heritage Park.
When I visited, seeking to fill the post-visitor absence in the early afternoon killer blank space hours of a gloomy and overcast Sunday in mid winter, the small ponds at the entrance were iced over. It was a no-special-gear-required, easy little walk in the woods: a couple of miles round trip, with one slight incline, at most. Creaky Knees take note.
There were a scattered few other people walking with dogs so, apart from one mysteriously treed presence (squirrel suspected) above a furiously barking, common backyard variety retriever, wildlife was pretty scarce. Excepting for the beginning where wood chips have been laid down against the mud, the trail is natural forest carpet of layered leaves, soft and springy underfoot and rich with the subtle woodsy fragrance a thousand men's aromatic products have failed to replicate with any integrity.
Although boundaries are not marked, I think I continued out of the park and onto the neighbouring Pope and Talbot logging company land when I encountered obvious signs of clear cutting (removal of all trees from an area). The tyre track wear in the area seemed to indicate use for off road motorized vehicle play. I did not continue long along that road. The hornet's nest buzzing of engines was too near, too un-peaceful for my mood or comfort. Besides it is a dubious joy walking in the stubble of clear cut land under a monotony of gray skies.
On a tightrope without a safety net in a mackerel sunset sky.
Began the day with the answer on my mind: a cold parking lot embrace the first gift.
In a dominion so oppressively ruled by tinsel and fake, I found the blessing of authenticity in the 360 degree panorama presence of a two eagle Christmas tree in the soft light of the winter muted sunset. There might be a three dog night in store, but, sufficiently warmed by the eagle fire, I am prepared. Mind is washed. Thanks go to the mysterious djinn of the lamp for granting the one most difficult wish: peace
There is a good, brief explanation of the prevailing calm waters and halcyon days reference in terms of classical mythology at the Owls Wings blog.
Bring back the light!
The weathergods gave us a coldest ever recorded arctic air mass timed exactly for the Lionheart and Lady visit.
What do you do with out-of-state visitors who are only around for 3 days? Walk some beaches and go to the forests and the mountains.
Hurricane Ridge is the best place to get the sense of the magnificent extent of the Olympic Mountain range. This is about an hour and half drive from Haleikeokekai, across the Hood Canal onto the Olympic peninsula. Going there: Hurricane Coffee shop in Sequim is now an extended family tradition for breakfast.
I had hoped to be able to hire snow shoes. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen until later in the month.
Lionheart had the full breakfast: a whole plate load of eggs, crab, hash browns and then a side of onion rings. Besides that I forget what the rest of the party had. Oh yes, I definitely had the sweet potato chips and probably hash browns too.....hmmm who cares: it was our favourite diner food and we were comfortably happy with neon glow and the black and white checkerboard floor familiarity. I have it on good authority that the coffee tasted like old ashtrays. The waiter was a perfect smiley Santa Elf in his Santa hat and Jimmy Dee had his festive hat on too. 
Of course it was all Bambi's fault. Isn't it always? "Tis the season.
Home to the Port Gamble S'klallam tribe, Little Boston Indian reservation is about 10 miles from Haleikeokekai, on Port Madison Indian Reservation.
The Port Gamble S'klallam House of Knowledge has some beautiful carvings. However what caught my camera this day when my out of state visitors and myself paid our respects was the welcoming whale and the David Boxley totem pole in the cemetery.
Lionheart of my heart and his fav animal doctor were (briefly) in town. 
Enough time to drink some coffee, a lot of tea; take a couple of walks on various cold but beautiful beaches where, bundled up in multiple layers against the extreme and record breaking cold, we could sit on logs to admire Mt Ranier palely taking the gap; see some Indian art here there and everywhere; see some snow on top of the world at Hurricane Ridge in the Olympic Mountains. 
Oh and, of course, the compulsory stop at HWY 101 Diner, Sequim.
Most mornings I walk around the block and down to the water. Some days it is more of the same beautiful light effects, some days I am greeted by the locals.
Yeah, I know I am posting a few weeks late. Been busy. Distracted by ice and light. And I know the otter pic is possibly the worst picture ever taken. But, as my friend Steve OC said recently: you do the best you can with what you have left.
With lowest ever recorded temperatures, it has been really cold but (unusually for these parts) really clear recently. A combination of exquisite beauty.
Mr Northwest Coast Style Native Art, Duane Pasco will be doing some presentations in January. I needed some pics of him for the publicity material.
Move over all you craggy Hollywood actors. This is the man to have in a camera lens. Add to that, this natural born raconteur puts Obie Oberholzer in the shade with his story telling. A new fascination is born. Oh did I mention he can carve too. Totem poles, canoes and what have you, Coast Style supremo.
As with much of my life these days, I seem to be a shadow presence. Not-a-bear coming into her own.
We have a saying here: "the mountains are out". Here's proof that the mountains are sometimes on show. Because, of course, a lot of the time we do not have these magnificent towering hills to lift our eyes up to. The shroud of fog and cloud veils them.
We also like to make sure that there is no confusion. Joe and Jane public must know exactly where they are and what they are doing. So we label things really clearly. Definitions are important in a civilized and literate country. You are looking at a scenic view. Read the sign. Look at the scenery. There's even a red alert triangle to make sure one does not miss the moment in one's busy road tripping life.
Leaving the gym in Little Norway, one morning in early November, it just happened that the full moon was setting in a sun warmed sky. Yes, I do go to gym really early.
