We bought a sailboat; half a sailboat!  I am still shaking my head over this.  It wasn't on my radar at all.  So in an effort to understand how this came to be I am revisiting the past, the far past.  Tracing the line that lead us to this moment.  While John was single but dating me, he spent a week aboard a sailboat cruising the San Juan Islands with some friends.  They had their skipper license and would charter a boat every summer and they still do but to more far off places than are local archipelago.  He loved it but there was much wind and they ended up motoring more than sailing.  He also tried windsurfing along the Columbia River.  When the kids were young we sailed with another family to Sucia Island for the day.  I was a bit nauseous and so stayed on deck even though it was cold. John also grew up with motorboats and we had two while the kids were growing up.  Both were pieces of junk but they got the kids onto tubes, skis, and wakeboards so that was perfect. By being a bit of junkers we weren't worried about rips or tears in the vinyl, we could just concentrate on fun until the boat didn't run, which actually did happen with each boat.  That's why we had cell phones and paddles.  Anyhow, we have been boatless for a few years now.  John bought a motorcycle and we often ride that in the evenings exploring our county roads and getting lost.  He started looking for another motorcycle and each time I thought this one was it, but he needed to think on it and time would pass, the motorcycle would be sold.  I thought we'd try van camping.  We love to hike and camp, but the idea of driving up to a spot, and camping in a dedicated camper van was appealing.  I envisioned crossing the country and seeing all the national parks this way.  It may still happen, it just isn't on the immediate horizon.  During the summer we would put our kayaks in the water at Drayton Harbor or at Marine Park, paddling near shore enjoying the view and wildlife.  Then this summer we took a sunset cruise on the Schooner Zodiac out on Bellingham Bay with friends and it was beautiful.  We started talking and these friends have a sailboat.  Very much smaller than the Schooner Zodiac but a cruising boat none the less.  They were talking about selling it.  I looked at John and told him we should buy it.  Many of the things I say are more fantasy than reality.  The idea of a sailboat is appealing but really, we were on another path.  We met for drinks enjoying a sunny afternoon at a brewery and it came up again.  Laughingly I said we were all in.  Another dinner with them and an offer of a sail.  A beautiful day, lunch on the boat, a light breeze and were out of the marina cruising the waters on the bay.  A few porpoises leaped, a seal popped it's head up, the wind in my face and the quiet.  I closed my eyes and soaked in the sun.  My scopolamine patch firmly fixed to my head just behind my ear.  I looked over at John and we were hooked.  So instead of buying the boat outright, we asked if they wanted to co-own with us for the following reasons.

1) Splitting the costs such as repair, maintenance, insurance, registration, slip fees and such.

2) We could continue to keep in this marina.  There is an 8 year waiting list.  

3) We would learn from and alongside another couple.

4) Also a boat should be used and there are plenty of days in a year for four people to be able to use and share a boat.  How many days would overlap?  That is a question that will be answered in this coming year.

The check was written and we have begun to climb all over the boat.  Learning about propane tanks for a heater and stove (which does not yet exist aboard the boat).  How do you put gas in the tank? Where do you fill and drank the water?  How does a composting toilet work? What are the parts of a sail? How do you take a dog when sailing? These and many more questions are going to be answered.  The first part is with a few books.  I've signed up for an all women's one week sailing course in the summer.  Hopefully preceded by a sailing course in the Sea of Cortez.  I'm listening to podcasts, pinning articles on Pinterest, reading sailing guidebooks and stories, watching YouTube videos.  I am determined to love this adventure and so dream building has ensued.

For almost 22 years, I have driven past this bridge.  I glance at it, not really thinking about it.  Generally I gauge the water level by the sandbar and log jam around the piling of the bridge.  However, lately our small town has embraced this bridge as a sort of icon of the town.  They created a new park with playground equipment for kids and one of the items is a bridge with the name Metallica Bridge on it.  A new brewery opened up and they had large wooden bridge wall art designed after this bridge. Kids have long painted graffiti on the metal part above the pilon but within a week or so someone comes along to cover it up and repaint Metallica on it.  Doing a little research I have learned that the railroad came through in 1893 and soon after a bridge for vehicle traffic replaced the ferry system.  Sometime later this bridge was built as a pass through bridge, meaning that it can turn on gears to allow boat traffic to move  up river.  It hasn't turned since the 1980s when work was done on it.  In the late 80's around 1986 or 1987 the Metallica graffiti first appeared on the bridge after some local youth attended a concert.  Since then the graffiti has been painted over with other messages but always returns and has become a symbol of our town.

A small non descript town on a road that meanders through farmland and coastal plains.  A turn or two and this little town appears.  It's home to a couple of vintage shops, a gallery, a restaurant and some cafes along with an elementary school.  It's unassuming and beautiful.  There are no sidewalks, just the highway jogging through at 25 mph.  This town is made for stopping.  Take some time to explore the galley which features a couple of artists and their works on display or browse the vintage shops if they are open.  Then order at the Bread Farm one of their Chocolate Croissants, Parisian Baguettes or this tomato, cheese Danish.  A burger and coke on a sunny autumn day during a motorcycle ride at the Edison Café makes a great lunch or dinner.  




 

Taking photos is all about light, using the available light, manipulating it, or creating it.  Some of the best learning I have done is to choose a type of light and photographing it.  Whether that light is front light, side light, or back light.  A technique that artists have used and we continue to use is called chiaroscuro.  It's the way an artist uses the strong contrast between light and shadow.  Think Cezanne, Vermeer, Caravaggio, Gerard van Honthorst.  This blog post by Pooky.com has a great explanation of it.  As a photographer I am a student of light and creating dramatic light is one thing I am striving to hone.  Since many of the Masters of Art painted still life and crated this dramatic effect, I can use their same technique only with a camera instead of a paint brush.  They didn't become experts in a day and there was trial and error.  They painted and repainted and learned.  Same for me.



 

When the kids were little we bought a book called Bear and Bunny Grow Tomatoes.  It is a lovely little picture book about one animal who takes their time to get their garden ready and tenderly grow their plants and the other who dreams big and lives for fun but doesn't put in the work.  Once reaps a harvest.  We lovingly refer to John as one of the animals.  

"Your such a stereotypical white soccer mom" my kids say to me when I say that I've been to the pumpkin patch.  Maybe so.  I raised three white kids who all played soccer so I guess I fit the bill.  And yet there is more to a pumpkin spiced latte, wellington boots, a scarf and vest snapping photos of large round pumpkins in a bin.  I come to the patch for photos yes.  But because like long ago when painters painted fruits and wine still life paintings, I can admire the subtlety of the differences in the form of the pumpkins.  I like the way the fog settles in among the orange globes in the field of dying vines sending vapors of mist curling along the tendrils.  The variations of color from creamy white Lumina pumpkins to the grey sage Jarrah dale pumpkins and then the range of orange from soft peach fairytale pumpkin to the vibrant burnt orange of sugar pumpkins all create a stunning montage for me. One thinks of pumpkins and sees only fall décor but I see more than just a pretty decoration.  They are unusually complex.  I can run my hands over the surface of a pumpkin but I can't close my eyes and describe it.  They aren't necessarily round or smooth.  There are imperfections and variations of color along with bumps and ridges and sizes.  To grow them, you need patience as with all plants and room, lots of room for their tendrils and vines.














 

Green vines trail along arbors and off cement tables.  Light filters through green glass windows.  Isles of pavers indicate walkways throughout. Wood trim painted white. Doves in wooden bird aviaries coo to each other.  Pops of vivid red and pink geraniums spill from the green foliage. A white Grecian statue, a fern as a center point, antique terrariums, and terra cotta planters are understated features among the healthy and varied plants.  As I step onto the property my eyes feast at vignettes of the offerings.  I feel as if I have entered another time, or have dropped my worries off.  The greenhouses at Christianson's are dreams, imaginations, transporting me to a slower pace. Each little turn delights me and I wish and dream of a smaller version of a greenhouse like the ones I find a Christianson's Nursery.  I can imagine puttering in the rich soil, planting tomatoes starts to get a jump on the season or keeping my geraniums alive during the cold winter season.  I imaging breakfasts of coffee and croissants in the early spring in the warmth of the greenhouse as buds start to swell on the plum and quince trees outside.  The fresh smell of growing plants makes me breath deep and find a quiet spot to just sit and write or to pour through plant catalogs.  I dream of fairy lights at night with slow jazzy music and wine, relaxing with friends as we talk about hopes and dreams, sharing our fears and worries, encouraging words flowing and building us up. I realize that this spot, so unassuming is a sort of friendship that wraps around me as soon as step out of my car and I make a trip at least once a year to dream and be inspired. 




 

    

 With the weather finally on our side, we seized the opportunity to embark on another day of fishing. The clear skies beckoned us to the streams where the salmon run had captivated our attention throughout the week. As we made our way to the fishing spot, we noticed other anglers already scattered along the banks, patiently casting their lines into the glistening waters.

Among the fellow fishermen was a young mother, her baby nestled securely on her back, demonstrating that the love for fishing is passed down through generations on Kodiak Island. We exchanged warm smiles and nods, united by our shared passion for this age-old pursuit.

Yet, our fellow human anglers were not the only company we had in the stream. Just across the road, a majestic Kodiak bear prowled the riverbank, keenly aware of the salmon swimming upstream. With remarkable agility and speed, it pounced on the fish that had managed to evade the fishermen's hooks. The sight of this magnificent creature in its natural habitat was both humbling and awe-inspiring.

As we cast our lines into the water, hoping for a bite, we couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration tinged with a touch of trepidation. The presence of bears added an element of excitement to our fishing experience, reminding us that we were mere visitors in their domain. The eagles perched high in the trees observed our endeavors, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down and claim their own share of the abundant feast.

Job, with his deep knowledge and respect for the island's wildlife, remarked on the unique circumstances of the salmon run. The river was so crowded with fish that it offered little challenge in terms of angling skill. The sheer abundance of salmon made it difficult for them to evade the hooks, and yet the catch we secured would provide a welcome variety in Job's meals throughout the winter months.

Amidst the picturesque landscape, we savored the serenity of the moment, casting our lines with hope and anticipation. The rhythmic sound of the water flowing and the constant splash of a fish leaping added to the symphony of nature that surrounded us. The camaraderie shared with our fellow anglers, the presence of the bears, and the watchful eyes of the eagles created a tapestry of experiences that we would forever carry in our hearts.

As the day unfolded and we continued our quest for the perfect catch, the harmony between humans, bears, and wildlife became palpable. We were reminded of our interconnectedness with the natural world and the delicate balance that sustains life on Kodiak Island.

With each successful catch, we celebrated the bounty of the land and sea, mindful of the privilege and responsibility that comes with being stewards of this extraordinary ecosystem. As the sun cast its golden rays upon the shimmering water, we felt a profound gratitude for the experiences that Kodiak Island had gifted us and a renewed commitment to preserve its beauty for future generations.

Finally the day drew to a close, we packed up our fishing gear, bidding farewell to the stream that had provided us with endless wonder. The memories of fishing alongside bears, observing the salmon's relentless journey, and sharing the company of fellow anglers would forever hold a special place in our hearts.