Storm clouds were brewing over the Black River on Saturday morning, but we decided to paddle it anyway.
This is a meandering, tranquil river southwest of Olympia, with tannins from rotting vegetation that cause the river to look black. It is spooky in the winter, reminding me of the atmosphere in 'The Hobbit' or 'Willow'. It curls around the southeastern base of the Black Hills below Capitol Forest, and although it has excellent access, it is considered to be one of the most remote rivers in the state.
The Black River is simply idyllic in the summertime, with songbirds, butterflys and hooting owls. It is protected by marshes and pasturelands, both public and private, and barely flows for the first 5 miles of a 12 mile segment. It was carved by the massive glacial melt in the Cascades at the end of the last ice age. We paddled upstream during the height of mid-day, along miles of lily pads that were curling in the sun, drying up. You know that a river is shallow when these pads grace the shoreline - they have long submerged stems that are 3 - 4 feet tall, allowing the leaves to float on top. More shallow areas invite different types, with altogether different flower and blooms.
I photographed a few of the brilliant yellow cow-lilies that are turning color right now. The waxy, cup-shaped flowers have stamens that are particularly colorful, a reddish maroon. These lilies open in the morning and close in the afternoon. 
Outbursts of crowfoot, wild mint, and forget-me-nots covered sub- merged, rotted logs, and snags blocked passages. We had to paddle around them, and in some cases had to lay flat in the canoe in order to get under them.We found a little side-branch to the Black River, like a small lake, and we explored that down to the very endwhere there was a gravelbar. There, on the shoreline, a trail entered an oak grove, and then a vast field of dry grass, with mima mounds for as far as the eye could see. We were impressed, as it was such a difference from the dense forest that we'd just paddled through.
As we headed back through old pilings, we came across large gelatinous egg sacks attached to tree limbs under the water. (I couldn't film them.) They were over 24 inches in diameter, and I lifted one up, to look at all the large eggs inside. I haven't done the research yet on what type of salamander layed these eggs sacks - we came upon about 12 of them - they are new to us. In all our years of canoeing, we've never seen such large ones.As remote as these waters can be, someone has 'managed them'. We noticed large nesting bins on the sides of trees, probably for owls, and smaller bird-houses on old posts right out in the water. We paddled up to one of these, and I looked inside the entrance. 
It was covered in tiny feathers and grass, and had been aban- doned long ago. While George explored the mima mounds, I video- taped the work-crew of a huge ant hill. Up close, the film came out quite good. It made all of these little workers so admirable, as they worked together to build and maintain their nest. 
It was under a pine tree, and was about 3 feet tall, with about 20 entrances.
I also filmed the mima mounds, the oaktrees, and the pathway through the woods. I enjoy having videos of our hikes and paddles, and I play them as I cook in my kitchen. During the week, as we sit with dinner, we discuss the paddle and what we've learned from it. There was an especially dangerous section where the water looked only about a foot deep, with about 5 feet of brown sediment creating the bottom. This is not a place to get out of the canoe! George put his paddle down into the water, and it went down the entire length of the paddle - that can be like quicksand, a sediment bog, and one cannot swim out of it. I was very eager to get out of there. On this paddle, George took us further upriver than we'd planned, and we didn't pack any food. Fortunately, I carry a double-shot Starbucks espresso and a few granola bars in my camera case, and that saved the day. Notice in this last shot, that we weren't alone. We met two other paddlers, none of whom ventured as far upriver as we had. 
These are images of the Parrot Flower - Impatiens Arguta, a tropical plant. Impatiens is a genus of about 850 - 1000 species of flowering plants in the family Balsaminaceae. The genus has a wide distribution in the northern hemisphere and tropics.The plant derives its scientific name Impatiens ("impatient") and the common name "touch-me-not" from the plant's seed pods. When the seed pods mature, they "explode" when touched, sending seeds several metres away.
Bubbie Dear sent me this image of the "Blue Dream" Impatiens, a delightful plant from Nepal. The inflated, bluish-lavender flowers are very un-Impatiens-like, and appear all throughout the year! These dream-like blooms are suspended by long stems, giving the effect that little purple parrots are floating through the plant!
Strange Wonderful Things is a website dedicated to unusual botanicals, offering seeds and plants, like the rare Xeronema Lily, the 25 foot tall Tree Dahlia, huge (1 - 7 foot tall) Calla Lilies - the 'Hercules', and the amazing Ribbon Tree. Check out the plant gallery for some stunning photos.
The sun was setting, with Lake Washington in the distance, when I took this photo at my daughter's home in Renton. (The lake is barely visable in the lower left corner.) It was one of the most gorgeous sunsets I've ever seen - and fortunately I had my camera in the car. We'd gone up to Laurel and Mehran's home so I could pick up some dandelion root tea, which Laurel purchased for me. I think it has a good taste, and I use it as 'a second cup of coffee' in the morning, rather than have more caffeine. It claims to be good for the liver, stimulating better function. I think it compliments the taste of coffee. Most teas don't. It is an organic roasted 'Traditional Medicinals' tea. While we were there, we watched one of our canoeing videos on eastern Washington, and the video of an earlier camping trip to the Olympic Forest with our son and his wife. When September comes, we want to plan a big family camping trip, our final one, over to eastern Washington. It takes at least a month or more to coordinate everyones schedule, so we can all be together. In the middle of September our son Taraz will marry Megan in a small family ceremony, and we thought we'd plan the trip east afterwards. It affords more opportunities to visit with extended family in a fun, recreational setting. Most of the tourists are gone then, campsites are plentiful, and the peace and quiet is so rich.Camping in the fall, with the cool temperatures is my favorite time of year. Laurel wants to hold a sleep-over in her home the day after the wedding, and have all of us stay together and head out to eastern Washington together. I'll have to admit, I'm one of those parents that sits back and lets the 'kids' decide how to run the show - they usually provide all the energy, and keep things lively. I just have to make sure everyone is sleeping well, warm, and well-fed.
This last photo was just 'a study in light', which is quite fitting for this room in Laurel's home. I happened to see the narrow window, the beam of light, and the grace of curtain. It just seemed to match, beautifully, the glorious colors seen later in the evening.
These cherry tomatoes had to be clipped off of the plant, because the plant was beginning to suffer blight on the base stem. That is a darkening fungus that spreads onto all of the cells of the plant, eventually blighting the fruit as well, if kept on the vine. I learned from Ukranian gardeners to pick off the fruit, and let it ripen off the vine.
The plants were in a hanging basket, in a cooler part of the patio, and not in direct sun. I guess you could say putting it there was a compromise - the pot kept drying out, leaching out the nutrients in the soil. I thought I'd made a good choice, but now I've learned that sometimes, you solve one problem only to gain another....kind of like most solutions in life.
With temperatures hovering in the mid 90's, we decided to take an evening paddle along the Burley Lagoon up to the little stream that flows into it, Burley Creek. The creek is part of a number of water tributaries that combine to make up about nine miles of stream corridor flowing in a southerly direction here. This top image is about as far as we were able to go, by ducking branches and inching along. The water was just a thin little stream, and cold.
As we passed through the overhanging shrubs and trees, suddenly the air cooled down drastically as we rounded a bend. It almost felt like we were in a cave, in a different world.
This is the entrance to Burley Creek from the lagoon. We watched a great blue heron flap up into the air here, with a loud squaaaak'ak'ak'. It provided just the drama we were looking for as we ventured farther and farther into the creek. If you press on the photo image here, you can enlarge it, and see the thin outline of that heron.
Burley Lagoon, at the north end of Carr Inlet, in Puget Sound, is an old commercial shellfish site, with some oysterbed operations. I enjoy looking at all the old shells, piled up along the bank. The water was very clear here, so I was able to do some filming as we paddled along. I also enjoy seeing some of the older homes built on the lagoon years ago. 
The entire paddle back to our 'put-in place' was after sunset, with the most gentle light across the mudflats. They are always quite flat-looking, grey, and mottled, and quite a rich habitat for shorebirds and migrating waterfowl.Puget Sound was one of the first estuaries to join the National Estuary Program (NEP). There is a comprehensive conservation and management plan for the Sound which fixes and prevents on-site sewage system problems, and regulations to protect and restore the shellfish beds.The mudflats are always affected by the tide. They can extend outward for great distances, creating unstable, slippery mudbanks that we have to negotiate during a paddle. Our goal is not to get the canoe stuck on them or get our boots mired down in them. This was an easy paddle - by the time we got back to our 'put in place', the tide had gone out only four feet, and landing was successful.
He said, "Mom, your camera is one of those old BIG ones that people don't use anymore."I said, "Stop, hold that pose! I see myself in your glasses..
......!" WOW, that IS a big camera!
Yesterday, the cats were out in the yard, hunkered down around the spiraea bush. I couldn't figure out why they were climbing all around it, peeking through the branches, and flapping their tails. As I watched from my window, I figured that a little mouse must be in there, and that its life was in peril, so I ran outside and shooed the cats away. Then I parted the branches, and nestled down in the dirt against a rock was this little poor bird, simply shaking with fright. I picked him up and folded my hand around him, and carried him over to a better spot (after I put both cats in the house). While I held him, he closed his eyes and stopped shaking, putting his feet comfortably underneath his tummy. 
Then he looked around, and I thought perhaps he was feeling better. He didn't appear to have any injuries, and perhaps was just attempting emancipation from the nest, with a poor first attempt.I opened my hand, and he continued just sitting there, like a little child who has awakened from a bad dream, and needs time to adjust. I spoke to him, reassuring him to keep up his courage, then took his picture. I hid him under the mint, in a far corner of my yard, deep in my vegetable garden. Whatever additional time he needed to recover, he can have it there, without my cats disturbing his concentration. I did wish him abundant good luck in this world, as sometimes even the best first attempts may fail. But, try again we must. We just have to have time to gather our courage.This morning, when I checked, he was gone.
Caramel glazed rolls - there's one here for you!
Long Lake, Washington
If you've been reading Flitzy lately, you've seen how swamped we've been with camping, canoeing, and company - the 3 C's. Normally, our life is not so riddled with activity. (Yikes, can't even go canoeing without having to make a phone-call.)
Things slow down, and thats the way I like it. Take conversation, for example.....have you ever noticed that a person's way of being in the world actually influences how they talk? Mothers use coaching phrases like, "thats the way!" Big brothers play it tough, with a competitive edge, "If it was easy, any idiot could do it!" And then there are the family dynamics, everyone tries to give their best. George's brother Dick was here, and we had a good time, although Dick and I have vastly different conversational styles. He nails me down to the truth of every minute detail, like lawyers do, and I repeat everything 4 times, like insecure people do who know everything they say is not being heard or understood! Then, add George, who has to lace every comment with a psycho-analytical assessment, and you've got a dialog similar to this: Dick: I've been doing these Suduku puzzles for years. They are challenging, and I enjoy them....Bonita: You are so lucky that you can work them.... Dick: Luck? That is not the right word. Luck has nothing to do with it. Bonita: Well, FORTUNATE then... Dick: Fortunate is also not a good word. Now, lets get this straight. Bonita do you know what a Suduko puzzle is and what it takes to figure them out? Bonita: (I'm getting a little insecure here.) Well, I'd be lucky to do one, even FORTUNATE to be able to do one. I would need luck and good fortune to do one. Luck and good fortune are necessary for me. Dick: (Looks at George in exasperation) What does she mean by luck and good fortune? Has she ever done one of these puzzles? (Gets rattled). George: Everyone has different interests, yours are puzzles, and she admires your mental agility. But, calm down, Dick, everyone has different aptitudes and interests, and are receptive in different ways. She doesn't do puzzles, she goes canoeing. Dick: WELL! I find them relaxing! George: Of course, they help you to emotionally regulate part of your day. You get stressed, so you get out a puzzle. And, Bonita goes paddling. THAT IS HOW MOST OF OUR CONVERSATIONS WENT! I got so worn out being grilled as to the accuracy of my comments, that I just did "uh-huh, uh-huh" most of the time, so as not to protract the investigation.
But, we did have great fun, went on a "skidaddle of paddles", had good conversations, and now my house is quiet again. It's always a shock when you discover just how quiet a house can feel when all the voices are gone, and there is nobody to banter with. That's when you discover just how much you love the imperfections of family dynamics....did I say that OK?Did I also mention that I've learned how to do Sudoku puzzles?
My husband's brother Dick went on his last paddle today before boarding a flight home. His visit these last 5 days has included a major canoe paddle every day, some lasting all day.This year, I did something different. I encouraged George and Dick to go on paddles alone, without me.I've noticed over the years, in these paddles with 'Uncle Dick', that they've gotten a little incongruent - I want something gentle and relaxing, and Dick and George want to take high risk, going to the places we'd never consider 'an easy paddle'.So, we alternated days - first, an easy paddle, and I'd go along, sitting in a box in the middle of the canoe. Dick would paddle up front, and George at the rear. Then, Dick and George would go on a serious paddle, with crashing waves, wind, and high risk. They canoed across open water, braving wind and incoming barges headed right for them. They trudged through low tide muck, getting their shoes, pants, and the canoe filthy. They loved it.
I'm convinced that a great vacation 'for men', is thrills. They loved canoeing completely around Blake Island, like a couple of pirates looking for adventure. They braved wind and strong currents, pitching the canoe up and down, crashing it through the waves. They paddled hard until both were breathless, weary, and full of mud - yes, they forgot about the tides, and had to plod through 50 feet of muck. The last time this happened, I told George to take a long board along, to crawl across. Well, no such 'planning ahead' for them. They drove into town, put their sandy clothes in the washer, and took the boat to the carwash.
When I was along, I told George 2 rules: Don't paddle fast (so I can look at everything), and do not choose a location that has underwater stumps and snags. (They can cause the canoe to capsize, or can snag a lifejacket and trap a person underwater). Well, George chose Lake Kapowsin for my last paddle with Dick, and it was full of them. We got high-centered a number of times because Dick couldn't see the stumps underwater. The tannins in the water made it very black, obscuring underwater debris. We paddled around an island in the lake, enjoying the scenery, then it started to thunder, with stormy clouds broiling overhead.We completed our paddle safely, and headed for home. I think we worked out a good arrangement that will bode well for future vacations: Give the men most of the canoeing days alone together. When they come home, they have a great story to tell - and, dinner is waiting, the house is clean, and the laundry done.
I really count my blessings now-a-days. (Primarily because I managed to survive raising 5 kids.)
But, one of the benefits of having 3 sons is that eventually you will get 3 more daughters when the sons fall in love and get married. And, with Megan and Taraz getting married in September, our family will include another very pretty face.
My son Rue (short for Ruhu'llah; Arabic meaning 'the spirit of God') married Annie two years ago, and I'll never forget when this oldest son of mine brought Annie over to meet us for the first time.
She was so demure, so conservatively dressed in a skirt and blouse, with her long hair spilling over her shoulders. There was a shy story between them, not yet told. They were just beginning to spend time together.
When I saw Rue again, I said, "That is the woman you should marry." He already knew it. There was a sense of pride, that his selection had pleased his mom. They had a very romantic courtship, with flowers and cards, and he began attending Annie's church so he could get to know the people who were important to her. Annie's parents also attend the same little church out in the country, where Annie sings in the choir.
Rue's courtship lasted over a year, and then Annie and Rue had a lovely church wedding, with all the trimmings - the beautiful bridal gown, the ladies attending, the walk down the isle. That was such an incredibly proud day for our son, and the beginning of Annie's and Rue's journey through life together.
Megan and Taraz (short for Taraz'ullah, Arabic for 'the ornament of God') have had a different type of courtship, as Baha'i youth serving within the activities of the Tacoma Baha'i community. I have seen Megan on an almost weekly basis as part of the classes associated with the Ruhi Study Circles, and I've gotten to know the quality of her scholarship there - always prepared, and creative with projects.
Both Annie and Megan have a quiet, gentle manner. There is this lovely femininity that I enjoy seeing in both of them. Especially now that I'm now older, they remind me of spring flowers in the garden. Fresh, like a summer morning.I'm so glad that both these young women are part of my life. Both feel like daughters. And I enjoy watching them, being near them. I know they will start where I've left off, moving Rue and Taraz through the world with support and good decisions, comforting them with love and patience. ........in this garden of God, lift up your voicesand sing the blissful anthemsof the spirit.Become ye as the birdswho offer Him their thanks,and in the blossoming bowers of life,chant ye such melodies,as will dazzle the mindsof those who know. ~ 'Abdu'l-Baha
Storm clouds were brewing over the Black River on Saturday morning, but we decided to paddle it anyway.
This is a meandering, tranquil river southwest of Olympia, with tannins from rotting vegetation that cause the river to look black. It is spooky in the winter, reminding me of the atmosphere in 'The Hobbit' or 'Willow'. It curls around the southeastern base of the Black Hills below Capitol Forest, and although it has excellent access, it is considered to be one of the most remote rivers in the state.
The Black River is simply idyllic in the summertime, with songbirds, butterflys and hooting owls. It is protected by marshes and pasturelands, both public and private, and barely flows for the first 5 miles of a 12 mile segment. It was carved by the massive glacial melt in the Cascades at the end of the last ice age. 
I photographed a few of the brilliant yellow cow-lilies that are turning color right now. The waxy, cup-shaped flowers have stamens that are particularly colorful, a reddish maroon. These lilies open in the morning and close in the afternoon. 
Outbursts of crowfoot, wild mint, and forget-me-nots covered sub- merged, rotted logs, and snags blocked passages. We had to paddle around them, and in some cases had to lay flat in the canoe in order to get under them.
As we headed back through old pilings, we came across large gelatinous egg sacks attached to tree limbs under the water. (I couldn't film them.) They were over 24 inches in diameter, and I lifted one up, to look at all the large eggs inside. I haven't done the research yet on what type of salamander layed these eggs sacks - we came upon about 12 of them - they are new to us. In all our years of canoeing, we've never seen such large ones.
It was covered in tiny feathers and grass, and had been aban- doned long ago. 
It was under a pine tree, and was about 3 feet tall, with about 20 entrances.
I also filmed the mima mounds, the oaktrees, and the pathway through the woods. I enjoy having videos of our hikes and paddles, and I play them as I cook in my kitchen. During the week, as we sit with dinner, we discuss the paddle and what we've learned from it. 
Bubbie Dear sent me this image of t
