Friday, December 30, 2011

The elk



My recent posts would seem more cogent if my description of the elk counter made it to you. Twice this photo and my description have failed to upload. You could blame it on spotty reception, or is it an elk conspiracy?

Almost at the end of my hike, I saw more than a few elk blocking the trail. I remembered to stay 100 feet back. The elk, however, had failed to read the notice about giving Williams a 100 foot buffer. They came closer and closer as they munched vegetation.

At last, when some elk were within 5 feet of me yet off the trail, I walked calmly between them down the trail. As I passed, I saw dozens of elk off the trail and was glad I had not tried to go around them.

This photo reminds me of driving through yellowstone in 1990. Then, too, I took photos of elk that fail to capture the closeness of the encounter.

posted from Bloggeroid

Thursday, December 29, 2011

I survived



No elk seem flustered as I passed. One was kind enough to take this photo.

posted from Bloggeroid

another mediocre nature photo



Near the parking lot were spawning salmon. Lots of them.

posted from Bloggeroid

elk warning



I had vague and distant memories of seeing some notice about elk when I entered the park.

posted from Bloggeroid

moss in the rainforest



I had a lovely 3 hour hike. it was quiet. I met 1 other hiker who had seen a bear.

posted from Bloggeroid

to the rainforest



the weather is warm. With no planning, I am off to the olympic peninsula to take a walk in the rain forest.

posted from Bloggeroid

Sunday, December 25, 2011

A Christmas Story, 2011

Once upon a time, when the world was still becoming as magical as tomorrow, Liam and Crispin dwelled in a cottage by the sea. Liam tended the garden while Crispin flitted hither and thither to gather berries. Out of abundance they created meals for travelers. Liam chopped wood. Crispin gathered and snapped kindling. The boys placed a metal griddle on top of a roaring fire and with agility cooked and tossed vegetables in front of their guests, juggling iron and fire all the while. After dinner the brothers entertained guests with plays brimming with song, movement, and verse. As winter charted its journey toward their island, the brothers prepared a Christmas pageant. With the swiftness of a swallow Crispin cut and sewed to make the wings of an angel--and practiced climbing, jumping, and leaping in ecstatic glory. With the deliberateness of an owl Liam cut and carved wood into a frame and then wrapped a skin to craft a drum that would celebrate in glory the yearly return of light in darkness. Just as Liam finished his drum and Crispin had but a few stitches to complete his wings, a north wind ferried Jack Frost to the island. Snow drifted down. Creeks froze. Sand at the beach became impermeable. Kale withered. Blankets of snow shrouded the berries. The frost invaded the cottage, too. When Liam went to play the drum, the skin, brittle from the frost, cracked and split. When Crispin went to finish sewing his angel's wings, the frangible needle cracked in two. Remembering that miracles drifted in with the snow, Liam and Crispin retained their good cheer. Liam knew his potatoes and carrots were cozy under winter's counterpane. While he was cracking ice to free the roots, he heard a loud bark on the nearby strand. Wondering if a seal was in distress, he skated toward the sound. There he saw a brown dog, the color chocolate, the color of earth, barking and barking and barking, scratching and digging in the ice. Strange, he thought, for he had not seen a dog like this on his island for many a year. "What do you seek, O dog of chocolate? What is your quest, O dog of earth?" he inquired, but the dog continued to bark and dig. Meanwhile Crispin had trotted inland in search of indefatigable berry bushes that might defy the frost. Although heavy snow burdened the blackberry hedges and made the trail between them almost impassible, Crispin remained confident that a path would reveal itself. At the narrowest point, where the trail like a thread seemed to go through the eye of a needle, Crispin saw gold flashing in the wintry sunlight. As he approached, he descried a golden dog with wild and flaming hair, panting with joyful repose as it lounged on the trail. Crispin approached, stroked his golden mane, and asked, "For whom do you wait, O dog of gold?" But the dog said nothing, nor did it move from its spot, even as Crispin gently tugged on its thick mane. The more Crispin tugged, the more it became clear the golden dog intended to remain where it was. As the sun rose, the rays of light danced around the thick fur of the golden dog, blending dog and sun until it was hard to discriminate one from the other. In wonderment and near blindness Crispin stood and waited. He felt a warm lick on his hand and the brush of fur. A cloud blocked the sun, and vision returned--and he saw that the golden dog had passed him and was walking on a new trail through the blackberry bramble, which opened like water before a swift-moving vessel. Striding beside the dog was a child completely of light. Crispin followed. The golden dog gave a tremendous bark, became frisky, and began to frolic; the brother rushed toward him and noticed that the child of light seemed to have vanished. There in the brambles Crispin saw 4 strange objects, arranged like the points on a compass: a broad cloth, the color of the sun; a much smaller cloth the same color; a smaller piece of wood to make the perfect mallet for a drum; and a tiny piece of wood with a hole in one end--the needle that would allow Crispin to complete his angel wings. He gathered the treasures and followed the lively dog toward the strand. On the shore the dog the color of earth had penetrated the icy crust and was digging quickly in the sand and mud. The sun rose higher, reflected of the water, and in a glare, Liam thought he saw a child of light stroking the brown dog on the head. When a cloud blocked the sun, Liam saw the child no more. He did see four pieces of--could it be?--ancient Redwood jutting out from the hole, arranged like points of a compass. As a burst of warmth transformed ice into water, a small boat floated to the surface, with a mast floating beside it. Opposite the boat and mast were two curved boards. Cold returned, and the water in the hole froze again. When Crispin and the dog of sun reached the beach, the boat was floating gently in the rising tide. While the brothers inserted the mast Liam had found and attached the cloth the color of the sun which Crispin had found for a sail, the dogs chased each other about the beach, tumbling and rolling and springing up again with the playfulness of puppies. With verve both dogs barked merrily and jumped onto the boat. A smell of jasmine filled the air, and a warm wind flouted the icy climate and pushed the two dogs gently out to sea. The brothers watched the dogs depart; never had they observed creatures so appreciative of what was and eager for what lay ahead. As the dogs' vessel slipped toward the setting sun over the horizon, the brothers could hear the hum of bees and the songs of birds--or was it angels?--in the air. Crispin showed Liam the smaller cloth, the mallet, and the needle. At once Liam recognized these, too, came from an ancient Redwood. When Liam showed him the curved boards, Crispin knew in an instant that they would skim across the snow like a swallow across a meadow. The brothers scudded on their boards with eagerness to their cottage. Liam replaced his drum head, and Crispin finished his wings. In less time than yesterday the brothers were ready and produced glorious music as they practiced their Christmas play. They were bubbling over with elation and realized that nothing need prevent them from sharing their joy. Crispin put on his wings and Liam slung his drum around his neck, and the brothers jumped on their boards and glided over snow and ice. They stopped at every house on the island, sharing their dance and song and mirth. After a blissful day, the brothers returned to their cottage to find a feast laid for them upon their table. And if things have not changed, they are feasting and singing and flying and drumming and celebrating still today.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

More frost angels


posted from Bloggeroid

Frost Angels



It was colder this morning, and boarding on frost worked really well.

posted from Bloggeroid

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

In tune with life



It is sweet when things work out. The boys were confident boarding would work on wet grass, and it does. They are having a blast, and this is safer, cheaper, and less frustrating than driving to slopes.

Short videos are on Facebook.

posted from Bloggeroid

Snowboarding



On wet grass. The boys are enthusiastic, and the grass makes it very kind to beginners.

posted from Bloggeroid

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Birthday Moose



With enthusiasm Crispin hoped to get a baby carrier to bring Lollipop the moose to musicals and ballets. He was pleased to receive his own ergo baby doll backpack. We carried him in the same style backpack. Indeed I still consider using it for redeyes.

posted from Bloggeroid

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Crispin hanging



Underneath my loft bed on a cool but sunny afternoon.

posted from Bloggeroid

Monday, December 12, 2011