Tolmie State Park is a 105-acre marine day-use park with 1,800 feet of saltwater shoreline on Puget Sound. This forested park is on Nisqually Beach, a few miles from Olympia, the state's capital city. 
The park features an underwater park for scuba divers, a saltwater marsh, a sand and gravel beach, and a forest of cedar, hemlock, alder, Douglas fir, and maple. The park is named for Dr. William Frazer Tolmie (1812-1866) who spent 16 years with the Hudson Bay Company at Fort Nisqually as a physician, surgeon, botonist and fur trader.With just about an hour of intermittent sunshine on Saturday, we were able to portage the canoe over the sandspit here, and paddle around a far point, before we had to turn back. It was quite brisk out, and with the onset of rain, we had the briefest of canoe paddles.
We turned into the inlet as the tide was receeding, letting the current pull the canoe with the tide. It was very shallow, and the golden leaves from the big-leaf maples had fallen into the water.Tolmie State Park is not far from the Nisqually Delta, one of our favorite hiking areas. There is a 5 mile hike out to the delta, and this time of year one can see approximately 4,000-6,000 wintering geese and waterfowl in the wetlands, pastures, and estuary habitats around here. 
Wintering songbirds (Northern shrike, winter wren, golden-crowned kinglet, varied thrush, yellow-rumped warbler, and sparrows) have arrived, and calling out from the willow thickets. On Saturday, we saw a bald eagle preening in a tall tree near the visitor's center. 
I remember, one year, we watched 5 immature eagles preening on a sandbank on the delta. That paddle was so windy, we had to drag our canoe across the grassy marsh, and I've never wanted to venture out there again. Two or three summers ago, George wanted to go back, and he explored it with his brother. Of course that was July, not November, and wind gusts then aren't as hazardous as they are in November. We got this day hike in, just before the storm front hit, with snow and temperatures in the low 20's.
The Nisqually Wildlife Refuge is on the delta. It is a riparian woodland, with huge cottonwoods and big-leaf maples, with non-native grasslands and wetland meadows. McAllister Creek, the Nisqually River and Red Salmon Creek flow through the Refuge and then flow into Puget Sound. Both saltwater and freshwater animals mingle here - the long-tailed weasel, the harbor seals and river otters, mergansers and cormorants.
Many of the apples below this tree had been nibbled by critters, and deer droppings - fresh - were on the ground. The perimeters of the dike have large stands of blackberry canes, rosehips, and crabapples which attract evening grosbeaks and cedar waxwings.
The calls of birds were everywhere - especially the thrushes, juncos, and flickers. I thought since it was lightly raining, everything would be hushed and still, but the sounds were robust and celebratory. 
A storm front was coming in, and with it, snow and dropping temperatures. The Canadian Geese here were in the thousands, flocking up, and feeding in the grass. The shallow seasonal marshes, which dry out in summer, refill in the fall and winter, and are prime feeding areas for these migrating birds.
These two old barns, built around 1903, were once part of Alson Brown's farm, which had a dike around 1,000 acres. This kept the saltwater out, and provided pastureland for his cattle. In recent years the land has been allowed to become the delta floodplane again, and the texture of the land is reverting back to the way it originally was a hundred years ago. The old barns are now used as educational labs and research stations. An Environmental Education Coordinator is available to meet with teachers and group leaders to help plan field trips for students interested in learning about the cultural history of the watershed, the cycles of nature, birds and migration cycles, and endangered species.
We've lived here for 19 years now, and hiked along the thickets, the boardwalks, and along the dike at least twice a year, during the summer and fall. It is one of our favorite places. That is George in the distance, in full rain-gear, checking out a blue heron.
This was how the park at Point Defiance looked last Friday, after Thanksgiving. We went for a hike about 4:00, and the woods were extremely dark. I thought, "This is NOT a good time to start a hike." It would be dark in an hour, and the trail markers can be confusing. We stayed close to the road, and kept our hike short. I'm glad I took the picture, because now a blanket of snow covers this pathway!
Our hiking destination on Saturday was the West Hylebos Wetland State Park in South King County. Taraz and Megan joined us for the stroll, which is a mile-long boardwalk through forest wetlands right in the middle of a large metropolitin community - Federal Way. 
Because of heavy precipitation, the boards are covered with a heavy mesh wire, to prevent slipping this time of year. Everything is mossy and wet. We've had tremendous wind damage over the last couple of days, and this urban forest suffered some heavy damage. 
Large cedars had blown over, exposing their shallow roots, blocking the trail. In a few places we had to climb over strewn debris that blocked the trail.This 69 acre wetland has a 20 foot deep peat bog that was formed 10,000 to 15,000 years ago in a depression left after the last glaciation. 
It was fenced off, but that didn't stop Taraz from trying to fish out a few floating beer cans that hikers had tossed into the water. Megan and I warned him to be careful, and she and I held our breath as he tried to fish them out of the water with a stick! ( I could just imagine him toppling head first into those black waters and never coming out again.) He retrieved a number of cans and some plastic paper that was tossed in there. But, we had to leave all of it under a bench since we had no way to carry all the items.
We hoped that the work crews - Friends of the Hylebos Wetlands - serving the park will pick the trash up. This organization is the leading community voice for conservation and restoration of the Hylebos Creek Watershed. Since the late 1970's salmon populations of Chinook, coho and chum salmon, and steelhead trout, have been greatly reduced. This organization works with the community to restore the health of the habitat, by involving volunteers and schools, local governments and businesses. Water quality monitoring, tree planting, cleanup and salmon spawning surveys are part of the conservation program. They also have created interpretative signposts along the way to highlight the native flora and fauna. Anyone walking along gains an appreciation for the diversity within this little habitat.
Once we finished the boardwalk, we hiked over to Brook Lake. 
It was nestled in the woods, quite a small tranquil spot. A tiny stream flowed out of the end of it, down into the forest. This is the area of the Hylebos Creek Watershed, which at one time was compromised due to development and population. The heavy use of asphalt in the area has caused the course of stream to change, altering the natural habitat. Industrial activity in the lower watershed polluted and destroyed key habitat for juvenile fish and returning spawners. It has taken over seven years to secure the legislation that will protect this area. Friends of the Hylebos Wetlands, with over 800 volunteers, have contributed more than 3,500 hours of volunteer labor for the watershed. Our family really appreciated that, when we strolled, examined, climbed, and enjoyed our little stroll. In our rapidly urbanizing areas here, it is fortunate these conservationists had a strategic plan for habitat preservation. We benefit.
This is the last apple pie that I've made from the wild apples we found in the Duckabush Delta. I've baked it in an old rustic tin, and it is sitting on a 'gizmo' that collects the juices if they start to overflow into the oven. The 'gizmo' has a hole in the center, so the air current bakes the bottom crust. I've saved myself a lot of cleanup with berry pies using this gizmo. And, scoop up all that runoff syrup, and it is like eating candy.My son Rue brought us a huge 20 lb. turkey. Since we will be having Thanksgiving with our daughter Laurel and her husband, Mehran, I'll be cooking that turkey tomorrow, and we'll be sharing left-overs with anyone stopping by. This is a busy weekend, with everyone doing their shopping for the holidays. The malls and grocery stores are packed with holiday shopers. And, the espresso places are cheerful and lively, too, with people enjoying their desserts and lattes with friends and family. Pie and coffee.....a real treat!
What a delight it was, to receive in the mail, this rock that my friend Pat acquired from a Beduin in Petra! If you look closely, it resembles the color and texture of the sandstone of Petra, which has mostly golden-reds. This type of stone was carved in the canyon at Petra, the majestic ancient city on the Silk Road in Jordan. She also sent a very fragile glass vase, that was eggshell-thin. The Nabataeans are famous for their pottery. Ancient examples here....
While walking last night, I picked up these yellow ginko leaves along a neighbors yard. It was very dark at the time, and they almost seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, scattered all over the grass. I brought them home, to look at the edges.The ginko, or maidenhair tree, is the world's oldest living species of tree. Earliest fossils date back to 270 million years ago. Ginko trees can live in urban areas where pollution prevents other trees from growing, and are immune to insects and disease....that's a real lesson in longevity! The extract from the leaves, ginko biloba, is used as a medicinal for circulation disorders.
This is our grand-daughter Daisy, in the center, top, singing a solo at Discovery Baptist Church, in Gig Harbor. (Thanks to Kathy for the photo.) She comes by singing very naturally, and has a beautiful voice. From as long as I can remember, Daisy would sing in the bathtub while bathing, sing as we walked through forests on hikes, and sing while she played with her dolls. Of course, if Daisy wasn't singing, she'd be talking, and so 'being vocal' was always a strong trait for her. I can remember taking Daisy on most of our canoe paddles from age 4 to 8, when I was a regular babysitter for her, and we cared for her every weekend while her dad worked. Now, I enjoyed those paddles as a 'getaway' from the noise and demands of my busy household and my job. It was 'come-down time', and I wanted to have peace and quiet! So, one day, we bundled her up in a quilt, and put her in a big plastic container that fit in the middle of the canoe. We gave her a little paddle of her own and also a fishing pole with the hope she would remain occupied along the way. But, she wasn't catching fish, and paddling became boring - she wanted to chat the entire length of our glide. I'd say, "Daisy, lets be quiet now, and listen to the birds." Two seconds later, she'd have a question about the birds, then more questions, and if I didn't answer, she'd turn around and ask her Grandpa! George would whisper, "Daisy, no more talking, just enjoy the view. Save your questions for later." Our strategies never worked, and pretty soon I got sidetracked counting the seconds between her silence and the startup of her chatter. I found myself counting, one-two-threeeeeee, four, fiveeeeeee, and then presto, she'd be talking again.I had to figure out a compromise. I really wanted to focus on our canoeing with a minumum of distraction, so I told Daisy to sing. To get her started, I sang many songs from my childhood, Christmas carols, songs from Snow White, and from the voice lessons I had as a child. (I took those for ten years!) Among many songs, we sang "Some Day My Prince Will Come", "This Little Light of Mine (I'm gunna let it shine)", "My Favorite Things", and "I Can Sing a Rainbow" song: "Red and yellow and pink and green, purple and orange and blue, Why, I can sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow too.Listen with your eyes, listen with your eyes,And sing everything you see, you can sing a rainbow,Sing a rainbow, sing along with me......"And, we'd throw in more verses. I can remember canoeing around one lake, and we never stopped singing. When I'd tire, she'd keep on, singing everything she could think of. When that was done, she couldn't stop, and she started singing her questions, and the answers, and she sang everything she saw. 
When she ran out of that, she sang her request for a snack ....... and, those were Daisy's voice lessons, in sunshine and rain, all over Puget Sound. It was a pleasant compromise. And, should you wish to tap your toes, and hum along, this is our rainbow song....imagine a grandma and her Daisy rounding corners singing what they see!This song, "He Keeps Me Singing", is for Daisy:Though sometimes He leads through waters deep,Trials fall across the way,Though sometimes the path seems rough and steep,See His footprints all the way.
My sister sent me this photograph of Mt. Wilber in Glacier Park. It was taken by Stacey Bangtson. Bonnie (Bubbie Dear) said they hiked along a trail here in October. At the time, snowflakes were coming down yet the sun was shining.... Montana weather can sometimes offer sudden surprizes.
Most of the mountain-biking enthusiasts around here will say that the old logging trails in the Capitol Forest south of Olympia are the best in the state. That's where we headed last Saturday for a day of hiking. The trails are maintained by volunteer work crews throughout the year who dig trenches for runoff water, bank up sagging trails, and make small bridges and walkways along the routes.
Because of the heavy rainfall in the winter months, soil erosion can be a real problem, and trails can't maintain the traffic.
The local camp- grounds have ample sites for boarding horses, with horse trails leading right out of the camping area and up into the forest. However, they are closed to horse and motorized use from the end of October to the first of April when hikers have privileged access. When we drove through, none of the sites were in use, and the forest was extremely quiet - except for the occasional burst of gunfire from hunters. 
We weren't sure where the shots were coming from, so we drove to several remote sites before we found one that appeared safe. We looked around, saw a sign saying "No Hunting", and felt safe heading up the trailhead.
We no sooner got about a fourth of a mile along the trail when we discovered why they need monthly work crews to restore the trails - the torrent of rain that has covered this region in the last few days has caused considerable erosion and some flooding. Fortunately, Taraz brought one of his durable walking sticks, and he carved out a gateway along the edge, to allow the surplus of water to drain. That done, George and I followed. 
We'd wished that we'd worn rubberboots rather than hiking boots because these huge puddles were everywhere. Had we worn them we could have walked right through the water rather than skirt the edges of the puddles. However, it was a wonderful adventure whacking the brush down, draining some of the big puddles, and exploring the mountain bike routes. 
It continued to drizzle throughout the late morning, through the afternoon, but we weren't seriously affected. George regretted not wearing his weather-proof pants, so his jeans got soaked. I wore the pants but not the jacket since I was carrying an umbrella - and I had a change of clothing back at the car. Since we were hiking, we stayed comfortably warm the entire time.
By the time we headed up through the woods on our return route, the sky started to darken and the area was in for some very heavy rain. We got out just in the nick of time, before the clouds dumped record-level amounts on our area in the past three days. All of the rivers in this part of the state are on high alert for flooding, as warnings to recreationists and hunters. The Olympic Mountains have dumped 12 inches of rain, and the Snoqualmie River is flooding. Tragically, a hunt is currently underway for an elk hunter that was swept away in his vehicle near the Cowlitz River. The riverbank collapsed under his vehicle.When we neared Tacoma, we were surprised at the flooding. Some streets were completely covered in water, with cars stranded along the curbs. 
As we drove along Union Avenue, cars were splashing huge arcs of water. Drains were getting clogged with leaves that had been raked to curbs, and people were out trying to clear the drains. It was quite a shock to have had such a peaceful, fun excursion out in the woods, and then to see the incredible flooding that suddenly hit our city and the surrounding areas. Roads up in the mountains have been closed. Warnings are still out, to watch the rivers rising, and to be ready to evacuate in a moments notice.
I'll not see the leaves on this tree in the morning. They'll be scattered along the curbside, blown across the street, and nestled near a storm drain. We've had tremendous wind and rain over the weekend.
When I took this photo last week, my sons were here repairing Taraz's bike. I thought there wasn't a story there. But, really there is.....
When my kids were growing up, they saw me ride a bike everywhere - to the dentist, to work at Park Rose Care Center where I worked in the kitchen, to the Community Garden District where I gardened in the mornings to raise food in the summertime. I used a bike as my transportation - we were a one car family for many years, and George used it for a long commute.
Over the years, our family has not had good luck with bikes - first, we buy them second hand, sometimes from Pawn-X at low cost, or often from a neighbor around the corner who salvages them and repairs them as a hobby throughout the winter. Every spring he has a sale, selling the bikes cheap so everyone will enjoy biking.
I acquired a wonderful 3-speed British bike from this neighbor that was my favorite for many years. It had 3 trusty gears and a wide cushiony seat with springs that absorbed every shock and bump. I'd ride it to work, and George would pick me up in the van at 8:00 p.m. when my shift ended. He'd put my bike in the back of the van. One night he forgot to remove the bike and put it in the garage. So, when someone stole our van that night, they also made off with my bike. Someone threw it out of the back while they were heading up to Seattle. We got the car back, but my little British bike was gone forever.
My sons all have bikes that they share with one another, depending on various stages of repair and breakdown. That means that if one of them needs a good bike for the day the other brother will loan his out.
Rahmat has had two of his bikes stolen, even though he uses a cable to secure them. (Kids now-a-days know how to pick locks and snatch a bike in a minute.) About two months ago his bike was stolen while he was at work. Since then he's been walking to work, even doing split shifts. Midway between his home and work is my house, where he makes a stop to visit the cats and pick up his mail.
Taraz has had two or three of his bikes stolen too, but there is never a lesson learned. He will park a bike at a park, leave it unattended, and decide to come back the next day to see if it is still there. It isn't. His problem is his detachment. He figures the bike isn't worth worrying over - and he is probably right. Those that got stolen are probably hours away from falling apart. I bet they are picked up by our neighbor, who then proceeds to repair them!
But now with the rainy season setting in, with some horrific wind, Taraz has given some consideration to reclaiming his bike - and worrying over Rahmat as well. So, Megan and Taraz did some shopping on the weekend, and bought Rahmat a bike!
When Rahmat stopped by to show us the bike, he reassured me that this one will be parked INSIDE his workplace, where it will not get stolen. I've got my fingers crossed. (When I rode mine to work, I locked it to a steel shelving unit inside a locked storeroom! I wasn't going to take any chances with people coming and going and failing to secure the door.)
I have to laugh, though - looking up from my computer here, I just noticed Rahmat whizzing by, grinning and waving. He sure loves his new bike! I'm hoping this bike will last a long, long time, and with very little need to haul out the tool box.
For four years I helped care for my grand-daughter Daisy, like many grandmothers do today. When she came home from school, we would draw together in the late afternoon, when both of us were tired. It was a time for afternoon cocoa and a little music. I'd get out the colored pencils, markers, and gel-pens.
Daisy drew images that went with the music - in this drawing she shows two kids dancing. The guy is shouting and dancing, and the girl doesn't like it. All of Daisy's drawings involved people and activity, like herself. This drawing was done on a Sunday, when she was six.
My pencil drawing was of a forest in winter, late at night....the way I imagined Montana winters to be years ago. If I knew how to draw an owl, he would have been there, lending his whoooo-whoooooing to the night. Funny, how one can imagine that, even if he is not there. Sure is quiet.
This is the image Megan saw when she took a picture of Taraz and I on the hike last Saturday. It was towards the middle of the hike, because we had removed our jackets, vests, longsleeved shirts, scarves, hats and gloves. I was a little disconcerted as my vision had become altered. I was able to see everything clearly within about a thirty-foot range, but everything in the distance had become double and slightly blurred. I had no periferal vision. 
Anything that I looked at out out the sides of my eyes resembled this... a painting by Yuan Zuo!Well, humor aside, I've noticed on my walks that after about 20 minutes I get double vision, which subsides eventually when I stop walking. I've not let the condition interfere in my walks, I just walk more softly and slowly. (I thought perhaps the absence of fat tissue around my eyes was causing the nerves to get battered! )
So, I saw the opthamologist on Tuesday. He couldn't get a stable reading on anything. My vision fluctuates too much. Sometimes, with double vision, they prescribe prism lenses, and that straightens everything out. But, even at rest, my eyes weren't providing any stable readings. The exam indicated that of the three nerves he viewed, one of them is paralyzed, possibly due to a stroke, or a tumor, or another abnormality. I'll be getting an MRI next week to determine what the presenting issues are. From there, we'll determine my options and treatment - if there is any. Until then, I can still keep walking. When I awaken in the morning I can see clearly all the gorgeous autumn color in the trees across the street. I can read without glasses. I can work on the computer without difficulty. When we go canoeing I can see everything clearly because I'm sitting still. The only other concern is extreme light sensitivity presented by cataract surgery, which means that I must wear a visor and sunglasses when I'm outside.I'm settling in to this new information. I continue to look at everything, stopping along the way to really see it. No change there. Now, I just wait for more information.
Yakima Avenue in Old Town Tacoma is part of my daily walk. This walk starts almost down on the waterfront, and meanders uphill along stately homes built early in the century, and renovated with newer modern touches. As I stood at this corner, four families came by, walking a poodle, a collie, a huge St. Bernard, and a greyhound. Children were just getting out of school, and I followed a few down this street as they walked home.
Theodore Zeldin, in 'An Intimate History of Humanity' writes, " All humans are, by origin, escapists. All are descended from ancestors who migrated from Africa and Asia. Every religion has been an escape from the sordidness of real life, a withdrawl from the aching body into the safe haven of the soul. When religions have become too conventional and superficial, there have always been escapes into mysticism and fundamentalism, away from reality. Industrial society began as an escape from poverty. Now it has become an escape from work to leisure, hobbies and sport. But even a civilisation dedicated to leisure contains enemies, so the art of escape has been refined still further: detachment, humour and parody have been cultivated to prevent any worry from being taken too seriously. The escape route from marriage to divorce and back again is a motorway to which new lanes are being added all the time. More humans have runaway from their enemies than have fought them. Escape has been an unrecognised art, because the many forms it takes have never been seen as a unified response to life"
"When circumstances do not permit you to escape physically, you can do so in your thoughts. The imagination is the only part of you which nobody and no group can touch."
Tolmie State Park is a 105-acre marine day-use park with 1,800 feet of saltwater shoreline on Puget Sound. This forested park is on Nisqually Beach, a few miles from Olympia, the state's capital city. 
The park features an underwater park for scuba divers, a saltwater marsh, a sand and gravel beach, and a forest of cedar, hemlock, alder, Douglas fir, and maple. The park is named for Dr. William Frazer Tolmie (1812-1866) who spent 16 years with the Hudson Bay Company at Fort Nisqually as a physician, surgeon, botonist and fur trader.
We turned into the inlet as the tide was receeding, letting the current pull the canoe with the tide. It was very shallow, and the golden leaves from the big-leaf maples had fallen into the water.
Wintering songbirds (Northern shrike, winter wren, golden-crowned kinglet, varied thrush, yellow-rumped warbler, and sparrows) have arrived, and calling out from the willow thickets. On Saturday, we saw a bald eagle preening in a tall tree near the visitor's center. 
