LOCAL WALKS: Summer Serendipity

It was the last day of June. Scattered clouds punctuated the horizon, a cool breeze promised fresh air, and the sun was strong. This is what Pacific Northwesterners live for: bright, comfortable summer days when the water beckons and worries are set aside.

After a difficult week, I was ready for a relaxing walk. Though Deception Pass State Park has as many visitors a year as Yosemite does, I can usually find a peaceful corner somewhere in the park, even on perfect summer days. My hopes and expectations amounted to nothing more than enjoying nature and finding a little inspiration along the way, right in front of me. There was no need to travel far or think hard about what I might photograph – it would be enough to be outdoors by the water and trees on a pleasant day.

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I made my way to a favorite, sandy beach made wide by a low tide. Clouds blew across the beach, obscuring the scene like one of Christo’s monumental fabric installations. Actually, it was a kind of fog created by differences between the air and water temperatures. Shivering in the billowing shrouds of moist air, I reminded myself that I’d be warmer once I crossed the beach.

As bewitching as the effect was, I wanted to focus on the ground, which never disappoints my curious eyes. Soon I was in my own world, observing a jewel-colored leaf, ripples in the sand, and crooked ribbons of eelgrass. Mostly as smooth as a fresh sheet of paper, the sand was darker in one place, flecked with green in another. Wavy ripples broke up the surface at the far end of the beach where a cliff changes the way the water flows. There, in the dappled shade of a Pacific crabapple tree, a driftwood log made fine, arcing lines in the sand where softly lapping water hesitated before withdrawing. So subtle they almost disappear, the patterns explained in detail the gentle out-breath of a lowering tide – if only you could read the script.

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After perhaps ten seconds of silly internal debate about expending the energy or not, I decided to continue on a favorite trail around a peninsula called Lighthouse Point. I wondered what wildflowers would be blooming near the water. Pausing to let a few people go ahead, I inhaled the fresh air and listened to the faint whisper of a few Chestnut-backed chickadees. As I entered the forest I stepped off the trail to let passers-by through once more, favoring my own slow pace where the trail meanders through a patch of tall Douglas fir trees. It was noon and the sun had been up for almost seven hours but the salal bushes on the trail were speckled with water drops. I don’t think it rained overnight – maybe it was dew. I was surprised. This is what happens when you trace the same path over and over, I thought, familiar things change and encourage the observant walker to pause and ponder the unexpected.

7. Leathery salal grows in the shade of tall Douglas fir trees. Salal (Gaultheria shallon) is invasive in England but here, where it’s native, it’s well behaved. The leaves and berries have fed and sheltered insects, birds, animals, and humans for ages.
8. Kelp floats in the shallows of a quiet cove on the Lighthouse Point trail. In the distance, the two-span Deception Pass Bridge connects Fidalgo Island to Pass Island (seen on the right) and Whidbey Island.

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Soon the forest opened out to a clearing at the southern tip of the peninsula where two small coves are separated by craggy rocks bordering Deception Pass. Across the water to the south is Whidbey Island, to the east is the dramatic Deception Pass Bridge, and to the west is the Salish Sea, where nutrients from the Pacific Ocean pour down into Puget Sound and up into British Columbia. History, geography, and ecology could tell long, complicated stories about this transformative place.

But my concerns were more immediate. At my feet was a narrow cliff edge where delicate wildflowers bloom in spring and summer. First, midnight blue larkspurs cavort with pure white chickweed, then cheery yellow stonecrop flowers mix with wild pink onions and golden grasses. Now, to my amazement, more than a dozen upright spikes of Rein orchids were just coming into bloom. I’ve seen the unusual flowers in other parts of the park, never here. As I sat down to photograph them I cursed the harsh sunlight but I smiled, too – this is one of my favorite plants. These specimens were so healthy and floriferous that I wasn’t even sure which species they were. I don’t often see them growing in such salutary conditions. Only when I got home and carefully checked the photos was I sure of the identification: the Elegant rein orchid.

And that was just the start of the wildflowers.

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9. Elegant Rein orchids (Platanthera elegans) beginning to bloom.

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11. Nodding onion (Allium cernuum), Harvest Brodiaea (Brodiaea coronaria), and Plantain (Plantago sp.)

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12. A tiny Sweat bee (Lasioglossum sp) is busy on a Brodiaea blossom.

Striking purple Harvest brodiaea flowers beamed up from thick beds of golden grass. First I saw only a few, then I found a generous offering of the little gems. Once the small, edible bulbs were harvested by indigenous tribes. These days the flower is sold by nurseries as a rock garden specimen. The genus, Brodiaea, is named for Scottish botanist James Brodie. Formerly in the lily family, since 2009 this plant has been put in the order Asparagales, family Asparagacae. Plant names are constantly changing as genetic and molecular differences are better understood. That can be hard for people (like me!) who understand plants based on the way they look (morphological differences) because plants that look very different may now be classified as closely related. For example, agave and yucca are in the order Asparagales, just like the little Brodiaea.

But on this bright June day I didn’t care about names.

13. A wide meadow halfway round the peninsula features grasses and wildflowers. The soil is very thin so the grasses dry out by early summer, soon followed by most of the flowers. I like meadows for their spaciousness.
14. There’s not much of a lighthouse on Lighthouse Point – just the very small, square green thing in the center of the upper third of the frame. The brown strands in the water are kelp.

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The beauty of the meadow at Lighthouse Point is that it’s surrounded by water on three sides, dynamic water that races with the turbulence of the tides. The surface can be mirror-smooth at times but boaters know that’s deceiving: eddies and currents can be treacherous here. Large volumes of nutrient-rich water from the ocean forced through narrow openings also hide a kaleidoscope of marine life, only a fraction of which can be seen from land. Beds of Bullwhip kelp (Nereocystis leutkeana) hug the rocky headlands. The long stem (or stipe) of this huge brown algae floats on the surface when the tide is low. At the top of the stipe, a gas-filled bulb allows a fan of leaves (or blades) to rest on the water’s surface. Far underneath, a holdfast (like a rootball) anchors the algae to the bottom. Bullwhip kelp forests are important habitat for many marine species. For this human, watching Bullwhip kelp drift in the current is as relaxing as watching a goldfish tank. Maybe better.

Deception Pass waters really are greenish-blue. Phytoplankton – photosynthesizing microorganisms – that live in the top layers of the water thrive on the rich upswell of nutrients carried down the Strait of Juan de Fuca from the Pacific Ocean, giving the water a beautiful, milky blue-green color. Shades of turquoise have begun to appear in my wardrobe over the last few years. Maybe it’s the landscape entering my consciousness in ways I didn’t expect.

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16. Kelp floating just under the water, seen from the edge of the meadow.
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Golden grasses set with purple wildflowers, the calls of oystercatchers, blue-green water stretching to the horizon – it was a day of breathtaking gifts, more than I expected. But that’s often the way it is when I go for a walk – expecting little, I am given so much.

To complete the day, as I made my way around the loop trail I saw a familiar face – it was Mary Jean, a fellow seal sitter. We each volunteered many hours this spring to protect a Northern elephant seal and her pup, the first Northern elephant seal known to have been born on this island. Both of them are back at sea now, hopefully living their lives as their species has for millennia. We walked back together through the forest and across the beach, still billowing with fog. We wondered aloud where in the vast Pacific Elsie Mae and Emerson are now and when we’ll see them again.

No one knows, and no one knows what the next walk will bring.

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18. Top three: Elsie Mae. In the middle photo she is molting her old skin and fur. Bottom left: Elsie Mae with a new fur coat that she flipped sand and gravel onto in order to cool down. Bottom right: Emerson at three months.

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19. A pair of kayakers float the Salish Sea between Lighthouse Point and Deception Island. Beyond them are the San Juan Islands and Canada.

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This entry was posted in Local Walks, Nature Studies, Pacific Northwest, photography and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

63 comments

  1. Oh the kelp is so sensual and abstract and your seal shots make me smile…the roll to look at you gaze is delightful…lovely fotos and and your narrative ever educative…thanks for sharing this Lynn ~ smiles hedy ☺️🤓👌🤍

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  2. Fascinating, this fog on what is basically a fresh, clear summer’s day, dear Lynn!  Just looking at the photo, I initially suspected a sandstorm.  Great that you were able to photograph this phenomenon, which is probably not that common.  It has a mysteriously enchanted effect, in a way separates you from the surrounding world.

    But then there really is sand – can you ever get tired of the countless different tracks, formations and colors in the sand?
    And how beautiful are the kelp strands floating in the turquoise and blue water!

    That little reminder at the end of your busy time as a seal sitter makes me think of what friendly, easygoing animals elephant seals are when left alone.  How different from us humans…

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    • Yes, it’s a wonderfully strange phenomenon to see billows of cold, foggy air being blown across the sand, then to step into the sun. Mysteriously enchanting is exactly it. 🙂 Maybe this post reminded you of Rugewn, I hope so. Will you be able to go this year?
      And you’re right, elephant seals are quite trusting. These two individuals became habituated to humans and were very curious about us, sometimes to their detriment. But in the end they have their own lives and they know what they need. They’re free from so much of what troubles us – let’s just hope we don’t ruin their world.

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      • Yes, this post reminded me of several vacations by different seasides.
        We are not going to travel anywhere this year: not by train because of full trains in combination with high Covid incidents, not by car because of avoiding the use of CO2-producing fuels. I wonder if we will ever be able to travel again with good conscience. We are happy to have our garden.

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        • I’m sorry to hear that and I admire your dedication to clean air. Maybe train travel will be more reasonable when the summer is over – and let’s hope that Covid will be better controlled. I should at least buy an electric or hybrid vehicle but they’re still so expensive. I’m not ready to give up travel, even with the resultant pollution, but that day will come.

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  3. Contentment with the natural world that surrounds you flows sweetly out of this post, Lynn. From the mist on the water to the billowing kelp, I loved it, but my favourite thing was those oh, so elegant orchids.

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    • She was content to lie in the sun and rest a lot after she got her new fur coat. 🙂 We were beginning to wonder when she would go back to sea! It’s a good year for wildflowers here after a long, cool, wet spring. I’m finding more Rein orchids than ever before…thanks, Rudi!

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  5. Poetry in both words and images, that’s how you want to be able to reproduce a single walk with so much impression. The foggy picture is a bit surrealistic, with people like actors from a sci-fi movie. Thank you for taking us along the path.

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    • Thank you so much for stopping by and commenting. Yes, the foggy photo has an air of mystery – it’s wonderful to experience. Maybe that happens where you live, too. Thanks again!

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  7. “Summer Serendipity” 👌

    Thank you for sharing these sights and thoughts from your exploration. Beautiful in all respects.

    The light and forms of #15 are so fascinating – I can understand why you would find watching the bullwhip kelp in motion to be relaxing…

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  10. Lynn, you are mastering colors in such a great sensitive way that I can’t get enough of it. In addition, the movement of the sea grass in different variations. And the highlights in number 18 are unsurpassed, they are so vibrant. Together with your text it becomes clear: June is perhaps the best month to go for a walk by the sea – or anywhere. Regards – Karl

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    • What a treat to read your comment, Karl. I don’t think I have to tell you that the world is in love with super-saturated, hi-def color, which I don’t like and I know you don’t like. I dial it back but then I question myself, should it be a little more this? A little more that? I know my photos aren’t as flashy as a lot of others are so it’s very gratifying to tread a comment like yours. (I like the way you use color, too). As for the highlights in #18, I thought maybe they were too “blown out” but then I also thought, that’s the way it looks in summer when the water sparkles. But is June the nest month for a walk by the sea – or anywhere? Hmmm….
      🙂 Have a great weekend, Karl.

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  12. I so very much enjoyed this walk with you. Your words brought the photos to life, especially about the receding tide sand patterns, and vice versa. It’s all so familiar; I was just on Whidbey, visiting friends for a few days.
    Alison

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  13. I had no idea Deception Pass gets as many visitors as Yosemite, but then both are spectacular in their own ways. We’ll be driving up tomorrow to add to the count, and to see if we remember how to camp. Looks like the weather is going to cooperate. 🙂

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    • Somewhere I read that Deception Pass gets around 3 mil visitors a year but that may include folks who just stop at the bridge. 😉 I looked up national park statistics and found a park with the same number. Voila. 😉
      I bet you’re here by now – if you see this, let me know where you’re camping and maybe I can stop by. Yes, good weather, yea! Have a great time!

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    • Thank you…”seal sitters’ are like babysitters for seals that need some protection from the curious public. It’s been fascinating. There is only a handful of this species that comes to land in this area. Most of them give birth and molt in large colonies off the California coast. We volunteers had a sign-up sheet online where we signed up for a few hours whenever we could, then we’d go to wherever the elephant seal was that day (we have an app we use to communicate). We used orange traffic cones to create a wide perimeter around the seal and spent many hours educating the public about this interesting species that spends the majority of its time far out in the ocean. We all learned a lot and had so many interesting conversations with people. Most of us bonded with the seals – they bring out all your parental instincts.
      That’s probably more info than you wanted but you see, the seals have turned us into fanatics. 🙂

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  18. You see an awful lot on your walks and maybe I should take a hint and lose the tripod. I spend so much time setting up my images…a quick handheld shot is so much more efficient and frees one up for other subjects.
    I’d love to regularly see seals and maybe sit with them too. When you’re in a storm I bet one doesn’t care how big the lighthouse is. 🙂

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    • There’s no question that it’s a different way of using a camera. As you’d guess there have been many times when I’ve looked at a photo I came home with and wished it was more precise – and many times when I’ve looked at your photos and wished I could achieve that clarity. There are advantages to each way. I do like to keep moving (however slowly). 😉
      The elephant seal experience was amazing and quite different from anything I’ve ever done before. We see the smaller Harbor seals a lot here but we don’t get intimately involved with them as individuals. Both species are a little dog-like in their looks and (seeming) attitudes toward humans. Many of us became really attached to Elsie Mae and her pup. It’s interesting to think about how you can be eye-to-eye with them (they have big, dark, soulful eyes), familiar even, on land but they live the bulk of their lives way out in the ocean in an environment that’s alien to us as humans.
      Thanks for your two cents, Steve!

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  20. Wonderful to walk with you, Lynn. I could feel the peaceful gratitude in your narrative and images. I felt your elation in finding your favorite orchid and your appreciation of the small wonders you found along the way. Lovely graceful curves, lines and patterns in your images. And how great that you are a seal protector! Reminds me of my days on sea turtle patrol in SC. 😄

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  21. We never really know what awaits us at every step, corner, and road. In nature and in life too. We only know that being attentive and with our senses alert, something can always surprise us in a good way.
    These aimless walks are delicious and this one you describe so completely in words and pictures demonstrates that.
    May the turquoise blue continue to invade your wardrobe, soul and photos too! And it’s nice to think that Elsie Mae and Emerson will also be swimming happily through beautiful shades of blue!

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    • I’ve been thinking about you. I’m sorry to hear Portugal is going through such a hard time.
      Thank you very much for reading and commenting so sweetly, Dulce. Yes, let’s keep turquoise around for a while, it’s an upbeat color. A warm kind of blue. 🙂 I imagine the blue that our elephant seal friends swim in is a deep, deep beautiful color. Almost midnight but not quite.
      And I wish you cool blue skies, for yourself and the rest of the country, and then some rain!

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      • Fortunately the fires have calmed down a bit and we are back to normal heat for this time of year. But the dryness is so, so deep, it hurts. And there is no prospect of rain….
        I think nature is a little angry with us!🙄

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  22. I envy you your kelp, but I’m grateful that you bring us the photos of it. For its unusual framing, #18 is my favorite photograph of it. Number 15 comes next on my list of favorites, followed by #16. That turquoise is such a lovely color, it’s no wonder it has seeped into your wardrobe. Your meadow photo (#13) brings so much sunshine. It’s another favorite. For modesty’s sake I almost feel that I shouldn’t single out #5 for admiration; it’s so like my photos taken on a Gulf Coast beach. But oh why not: I like it. Thank you for your words, Lynn. They take me along as much as your photographs do. It was an enjoyable walk.

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    • It’s taken me a few years to get comfortable with kelp. Haha, that sounds funny. Good to read what you said about #18 because I admire your sense of framing & composition very much. It was nice that the light was hitting the water that day in such a way that you could see the surface and under the surface, plus the colors were gorgeous that day. Maybe you’re right about the “seeping.” Hadn’t thought of that. I don’t remember that you made photographs like #5 – can you link to one? Glad you enjoyed the walk!

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  24. I always enjoy coming along on your walks! Summer is certainly the time to get out there … especially for those of us who have long winters! I lingered over 2 to observe the bright leaf and subtle colors in the sand. I was very nice to meet Elsie May and Emerson along the way!

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    • I’m thinking you must be enjoying the summer…the mountains…the scenery…the aspens…the old cabins… even just the ability to drive farther 🙂
      The experience of seal sitting had a surprisingly profound impact on several of us volunteers. It can be very intense when human/wildlfife interactions are threatening but the opportunities to educate the public are enjoyable. And there’s something about their trusting but truly wild nature and their big, soulful dark eyes that got to me. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. 🙂

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