Square Dancing at the Cranberry Museum

I didn't even know there was such a place as Greyland and that it had a Cranberry Museum. Now I have been educated. 

On August 3, Wayne and I arrived in Greyland, which is just below Westport, the fishing capitol of Washington State (they say) on the western coast of the U.S. The day we drove in, it was still blistering hot and hazy from the fires to the north.

Cranberries on the bush, a few weeks from ripening.

Cranberry fields in Greyland, WA.

Beach

Beach walkway to waterline of Pacific O.

Driftwood and native plants.

Unique fencing along Highway 12, Greyland, WA.

The owners of the museum are also the recreators of the Fulford Cranberry harvesting machine, making a new version of a very successful invention to harvest and prune cranberries. Chuck and Gwen Tjernberg have made the museum the focus of both historical and industrial times in Pacific and Grays Harbor counties.

I learned that cranberries do not require being in a bog to grow but that flooding the land they are growing it on makes it easier to do a wet harvest. Coming from Cape Cod, it was an assumption on my part that all cranberries are harvested wet, but the Fulford machine is designed to harvest dry and prune at the same time.

Wayne (tallest one) with dancing friends.

Ocean Spray is a business which is cooperatively owned by the farmers, and berries are classed as being top quality for the fresh market or second quality which used for juices and canning. Last year the top quality berries sold for about 89 cents a pound while the second quality sold for about 30 cents a pound. Most of the berries from the dry harvest have a top quality rating, while wet harvest berries are rated second.

First shipments go to Canada because they celebrate Thanksgiving in October. If there is a late harvest, it can severely impact shipment dates with a domino effect.

We enjoyed the tour that Gwen gave us, enriched with her personal knowledge of the industry.

Later that day we met with long-time friends of Wayne’s, Ann and Les Kilwein, over some lemonade and chips in the RV. When we were packing to go, I never thought about having snacks on hand for guests, but now I know enough to have something available for anyone who might show up.

Square dancing at the Cranberry Museum, Aug. 2017.

RV life is not that different from land-living, but being more close-knit, folks are more likely to share time and adventures over food and dancing. And like sailboat live-aboards, friends are made quickly. 

There does not seem to be a disparity in relationships just because you have a larger or smaller travel home; what is the division appears to be whether you are a weekender or a ‘real traveler’ for longer periods of time. 

Round dancers include caller Randy with Mike and
Marion Freely in the back.

Eventually there comes a time when even the most seasoned of RV travelers has to give up life on the road due to health, family or financial concerns but with the membership in the square dance ‘family,’ gatherings can still happen for that connection of friendship. 

Gwen and Chuck did a skit for the final act of the three-part weekend, poking fun at all the retirees with getting-ready-for-bed issues... putting the cat out, locking the doors, etc. with the group getting a big laugh at the end. It was a lot of fun!!

Chuck gets up (again) to fulfill Gwen's bedtime request.

This is what has been happening at this camp-out; folks that Wayne had not seen for years came to share in pot-luck and/or dancing and he appeared to have enjoyed greatly renewing those friendships.

Another Summit

 Shortly after I met my logger friend, Wayne Ratcliff, I convinced him to come with me to see another pair of friends, Carol and Joe, in the Bellingham area.

I loved the message on this trailer:"I go where I'm towed."

We had a lovely drive over there, July 27, catching the early ferry in Port Townsend, and arrived in time for lunch; a feast that Carol prepared. We still had daylight and Carol knew that Wayne would like going up on Mt. Baker. And further, it was an item on his bucket list, so off we went.

No one thought anything about footwear, and when we arrived at Artist's Point with me in my sandals and Wayne in his dancing sneakers, we were not daunted by over 10 feet of snow.

Here are the photos of that day including a stop at the Nooksack River Falls, which was just as impressive as the first time only I think it was a little bit warmer.

A man and his dawg... at Artist's Point, Mt. Baker, WA.

Wayne at the 'summit' of Artist's Point.

When I first moved to the Sequim area, there was an expectation that perhaps Carol was going to live there, too. Only she ended up in Bellingham instead.

Carol, right, pokes fun at Joe, left.

So we end up going back and forth visiting each other. Only now what was just two good friends has evolved into four good friends.

So first, there was Carol at the top of Mt. Baker. Then she invited me over to go up there (See earlier blog entries about that trip.) Then she got together with Joe and they made the trip up there. And now we've all introduced Wayne to this wonderful experience.

Joe and Carol at Artist's Point, Mt. Baker, WA.

Wayne practices the 'scissors' and 'vine' steps from dance class.

First on the Point is Carol.

Next, it's Carol and me on the Point.

Then it was me with Joe and Carol at the Point.

Now, it's the Four Communeros at the Point!

So what was the point? It's that through the remarkable process of thought and manifestation, dreams are being realized and it's all good!

Mt. Shuksan as we departed Artist's Point, Mt. Baker, WA.

Wayne at Nooksack Falls trail entry.

Peaches and I at the Nooksack Falls overlook.

This is the view from the bridge over the river,
looking down at the head of the falls.

Great meal to end the day in a roadside eatery.

Heading to the Coupevdlle Ferry Landing, the Olympics are
calling us home.

A long, but glorious day ends with a quarter moon over the
Strait of Juan de Fuca near Port Townsend, WA.

Miller State Park in Washington

Walking down the trail at Miller Peninsula State Park.

Miller Peninsula State Park is considered one of Sequim's attractions in Clallam County and today, July 30, the Olympic Peninsula Explorers (Volkswalkers) had their sanctioned walk.

Last week there was just a genial exchange between the Canadians and US walkers, and I walked almost eight miles. Today it felt longer, but it was really shorter; less than six miles overall.

Fungi amongi... not the latin name.

There is a wide diversity of plant life, including multiple types of fungi, tall evergreens and some pretty large deciduous trees as well. It was fun to stand quietly once in awhile and just listen to the needles, driven by the wind, raining down on the forest floor.

While there are several trails, the best (and shortest) one down to the water of Puget Sound takes about an hour down and back. Well, maybe for fast walkers it is less time, but we weren't rushing and for less nimble feet the trail shrinks for the last half-mile to a single file dirt path with roots, stumps, holes and rocks so it's sensible to pay attention and not get tangled up.

Still, the reward of seeing Protection Island from one of the closest locations from land was worth it.

We were lucky to have a 70-plus degree day with a light breeze instead of the one that preceded it yesterday (June 29) which was topping the 80 degree mark. The sun was shining hotly by noon, so this is good hike to make in the early part of the day. Even though the path has shady spots along it, the sun can be felt enough that sunscreen is also useful.

I like it when the trail bosses leave these trees where they fell.

The hike description said bug spray was needed, but we were fortunate to not have any issues. We did  meet one hiker who had gotten stung by a bee, so if anyone walking in  your group is allergic, be sure to have an epi-pen or a fresh copper penny* on hand. There is no way to easily remove someone from the park in an emergency like that.

This is the blue sea and sky at the end. It is
hard to differentiate which is which.

This is a better view of the Puget Sound as we arrived.

Except for the narrow trail down to the water for the last bit of the trip, there is plenty of space to walk side by side for easy conversation. This is a good walk for kids as there is plenty of running room before the trail.

Once down at the water it is easy to see eagles fishing and flying up into the wind vortices, and possibly puffins from Protection Island could be seen with some good binoculars. It was reported by a local TV station that humpback whales were seen near Discovery Bay this weekend, but I didn't see anything that dramatic in the water.

Protection Island sits almost at the mouth of Discovery Bay. This view is
one of the best to be had from land. A longer telescopic lens might help.

A rugged rocky shore looking sort of southeast, I think, toward Discovery Bay.

I had plenty to think about as I meandered down the trail and back again, lucky I had brought my two walking poles which I was able to share with another in our group.

This eagle flew right toward me from the water and then
landed on a branch only a few feet away... I was thrilled!

And so, after a really pleasant lunch/supper/tea with a new friend, I was ready to put my feet up and see how Foyle is getting on with his various detective challenges.
* I make no claims to the efficacy of a copper penny on a bee sting, but the hiker who was stung was using it for her relief.

Scandia Ball

The  61st Scandia Ball was at the Seattle Latvian Center in Seattle on Oct. 17, 2015.

61st Scandia Ball in Seattle, WA

It was my first time to go but not my first opportunity to dance some Scandinavian dances.

The ball begins with a Grand March around the hall.

In the N.H. town where I grew up there were a lot of Scandinavians: Norwegians, Finlanders, Danes and Swedes.

I first learned the Schottish at a New England contra dance.

Last night I danced many different versions of this energetic and lively pattern!!

Two friends from my contra dance group were here!

Today I am enjoying the memories of an evening with costumes and Swedish visitors... drat, didn't get to practice my limited Swedish on anyone, but had a wonderful 'vortexy' moment with a man from there: we were doing the

Långdans

 (mixer) where every seventh person was the one you were swinging... on the last connection, I met up with this charming Swede who recognized from my swing that I love doing it, it was an easy beat and that I am still imperfectly capable of swinging for a long period of time with someone else who is equally easy and proficient.

Musicians at play... interesting instruments!!

In his halting English he asked if I would care to do the next dance and I nodded and we started off on the Rørospols
 (which is a dance with lots of swinging, only they call that something else). We walked to the beat and then turned to swing and we just kept turning and turning and quietly laughing to each other in our eyes. When it was over, after many minutes of swinging, we shook hands and walked away... joy totally in that moment... joy in remembering it!

I learned the Telespringar, the Snoa, did a Familjevals, the Hambo, had several lovely Vals (Waltz both in Viennese style and Norska style) but missed the Godnatt Vals because my driving companion wanted to make sure we didn't miss the last ferry to Kingston.

Happily exhausted and looking forward to more dancing... tonight it's Country Western with Buck Ellard at the Sequim Prairie Grange...

The Enchanted Forest

When I was growing up, there was a small forest behind our house on Pine Street. At one time, I don't have any idea how long ago it was, there was an active quarry in that section of woods as well.

Aboard the ferry "Salish" to Whidbey Island, I caught this
nice pattern of shapes and color before we departed.

I used to go for walks there by myself when I was probably five or six years old. Those were the days when children were less at risk for getting lost just because they spent time exploring. And it probably was a contributing factor that my mother was an artist who didn't really want to spend time mothering, so the nanny she hired to care for my younger brother was preoccupied with him. (This is not "Oh, woe is me, poor abandoned child..." but a statement of fact.)

At any rate, I went to this piney woods often in the summertime. It was quiet, and there were some huge boulders that had gotten pushed into each other, creating a cozy little hide-away, filled with needles and leaves and cones from winds and previous seasons, in between them. (I know I didn't go there much after I was 10 or 11 because I was too big to fit in that space anymore.) It was my enchanted forest, where fairies and gnomes and my mystical life got nourished.

On this grey day, the canopy of trees took on a lovely
pattern only seen when one looks heavenward.

Once, when returning from the boulder site, I came up a path and was face-to-face with a doe and her two rump-spotted fawns and an 'auntie,' and I think a yearling. They stopped and looked at me, sniffing the air, and I was transfixed with the beauty of the group, standing breathless watching to see what was going to happen next.

It was one of those moments in time that seem to stop clocks... the world might have even stopped spinning as we faced each other. A crack of a twig somewhere broke the silence.  We all looked in the direction of the noise and there was the male, leader of the herd, fully antlered, coming to check on his girls.

There was no fear anywhere. We all sort of nodded at each other. The deer clan headed calmly off to the nearby field for grazing, perhaps to the place where I knew berries were nearly ready, and I sank to the ground, exhausted by the exhilaration of being so close to creatures I had read about.

72-acre Earth Sanctuary is located on Whidbey Island, off
Newman Road. It is $7 per person and $1 for the guide.

Fallen trees also serve as homes for the wildlife.

Yesterday I walked through a nature preserve, the Earth Sanctuary, on Whidbey Island that is privately owned and maintained. This forest fed me with the same etheric energy of my childhood. I returned home refreshed, cleansed and totally exhausted from it, sleeping two and half-hours, getting up for dinner and then falling into another wonderful and restful sleep until the six o'clock bird-fest outside my window woke me up.

This 72-acre Sanctuary is not unlike that of Willard Pond, another precious bit of protected land that our family gave over to New Hampshire Audubon to manage. I grew up appreciating the dangers of avarice for beautiful ponds and my grandmother Elsa dePierrefeu's wisdom created a 1700-acre wildlife preserve that still today offers the pavement-weary soul a place to retreat, repair and renew one's energy.

The wooded wetlands of this private land have over 80 species of native plants, including some delicious-looking red and yellow raspberries. (No, we did not take any. We did not see a sign that said we could not, but we felt we were on sacred ground and should leave the fruits of it to the residents; the deer, the birds, the beavers and muskrats and other critters that call this home.)

Raspberries are coming to fruit all over Washington now.

Ponds and bogs each have their role to play in nurturing a
healthy forest environment for all creatures, including slugs,
which are my least favorite creature overall.

I have never seen this fruit in the marketplace, but went to a
class recently to learn how to grow them at home.

There are printed, self-guided naturalist tour guides for free ($1 if you decide to keep one.) and posts with letters on them to help you determine what you are seeing, along with an explanation of why it is what it is.

The trail to the left leads to first Medicine Wheel area while
the trail to the right leads to the ponds and the Labyrinth and
Prayer Stone, more easily accessible.

The echoing basso-profundo music of these residents made
for a curious question by a tourist ... "What is making those
sounds?" I showed her how to find the source; she was entranced
and now, informed. Perhaps she also learned that they are
invaders and not particularly desirable, unless the Osprey
enjoy having them for dinner.

By taking the trail to the left, we found our way to the Cottonwood Stone Circle and the Tibetan Prayer Wheel. There is a spot for making an offering and burning tobacco. If it had been sunnier, we might have stayed long enough to see how the shadows played out on the ground.

Tibetan Prayer Wheel

Cottonwood Stone Circle

If you are planning to experience the Medicine Wheel section, be prepared to remove your shoes, carry some fresh tobacco for an offering, and either matches or a lighter to light it. At the time of our visit there was some tobacco and some sage for smudging, but the matches were wet. Also, no photographs are allowed of this sacred place, so please do not violate Native American customs by taking any.

Path is wide, but has a significant incline in
both directions. A bit challenging for wheeled
chairs or folks with walking issues.

In my opinion, the wetland trails on the farther part of the western end of the Sanctuary are not un- wheel-chair friendly, but a bit challenging, based on inclines in both directions for people with walking limitations. For example, my walking partner, due to knee issues, wasn't able to walk up the Celestial Trail at this time due to the steepness coming down.

There are plenty of places to sit and meditate in the area.

As it is not a public lands place, this is certainly not required to be ADA, but useful to know if you are traveling with someone who has such limitations. We were not able to explore the eastern end beyond visiting the Stupa very briefly due to time and weather, but another visit this fall is intended.

As we were returning to the parking lot, my totem, the American Robin, came and perched on some piled up prayer stones - a sign for me that I had come to the right place at the right time.

Visitors to the Stupa/Tibetan prayer location can use the
prayer wheels and the gong to enhance the experience.

All in all, it was a wonderful walking and meditating experience, shared with a special friend. There were a few other folks, but it wasn't at all crowded, and everyone respected the purpose of not talking while on the paths.

You can visit the Sanctuary on a day-trip basis or stay at the Retreat building on site. For more information, go to earthsanctuary.org.

If you don't have email or internet access, you can phone Celia at 360-321-5465.