A Perfect Pacific Northwest Evening

Last Saturday evening, after dinner was served and the dishes were cleaned up, Ranger and I took a little outing to one of our favorite destinations: Mukilteo Beach.

I am so lucky to live in the incredible natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest. For a hundred miles in all directions, I am surrounded by mountains, sea, forests, and rivers that take my breath away. But honestly, one of the most picturesque and charming spots is right here in my little hometown. I'll show you what I mean.

{By the way, all of these photos are unedited. I added the text, but the colors are exactly as captured on my phone. Sweet life.}

As I pulled into a prime parking place, I saw that as usual, the beach was full of action. 

There were people everywhere, either sitting at blazing campfires, stretched out on blankets on the ground, or walking along the water's edge. I saw big family groups, romantic couples, teenagers hanging out, and tons of little kids and dogs. 

Now please note that this is not a sandy beach. Here in the northwest, we are way tougher than that. Our beaches are full of rocks. Yes, there are some great big rocks for jumping and climbing on, and you'll see those in a minute. But I'm talking about bazillions of smaller stones that are just the right size for picking up and tossing into the water. 

Rock throwing seems to be on everyone's list of great things to do at the beach. This group of big boys, mostly teenagers, were totally into it.

The little family in the right foreground of this shot were into rock-throwing as well. The dad, wearing the bright blue jacket, was busy helping his youngest child find rocks - check out that demanding little outstretched hand. His two older children are a few steps away, hurling their own stones at a fast and furious pace.

When they were small, my daughters were passionate about rock-throwing too. I consider it a great success of my parenting that no one (yet) has ever been rushed off to get stitches in the head because of a sister's poorly aimed rock. I also remember that as they were busy attempting to throw every stone on the beach into the water, I was constantly monitoring them to minimize the friendly fire. It's a perfect example of parenting that seems much sweeter as a hazy memory. 

Anyway, back to the present. Now I have more time to take in my surroundings and appreciate these views. 

Let me help you get oriented. I'm standing on the edge of Puget Sound, which is an arm of the Pacific Ocean that bends into the land up here in the corner of the United States. This is salt water, directly linked to the deep blue sea, but about 120 miles inland from open ocean. 

View Larger Map

The beach lies on the east side of a narrow channel known as Possession Sound; on the other side of the water lies Whidbey Island. You see it here as a black bumpy strip. In reality, it's a rolling, mostly forested countryside, full of post-hippies and conflicted loners who want the benefits of a major city nearby without admitting they are part of it. 

Twenty miles to the southeast lies downtown Seattle. On clear days, you can almost make out the skyline.

Because Puget Sound is affected by tides, these rocks are sometimes submerged in water and other times, exposed and available for climbing. You can check the tide tables before your visit, so you know what to expect, but I always prefer to just show up and be surprised.

To the southwest, across the width of the Sound, lies the Olympic Peninsula which is capped by a rugged range of mountains. Here they peek out above the forested low lands; I always get a thrill when I see them like this.

And back behind me, to the northwest, I see the southern edge of the group of islands known as the San Juans. On the far side of the islands lies Canada, our friendly next-door neighbor.

As I walked along the water's edge, the sun quickly dipped below the edge of the horizon, bringing both the sky and the water alive with glorious colors. I took probably a million pics. Here is just one more.

Now keep in mind my reality as I'm walking along, taking in all this beauty. Walking across this expanse of small rounded stones is no picnic, and you'd think that by now I would remember that thin sandals don't really do the job. But I don't.

And you'd think I'd remember that Ranger is always out of his mind with excitement at the beach, and will be yanking and pulling me this way and that. But I don't remember that either, and ambitiously try to take photos as he is hauling me all over the place. The unanticipated jerks on his leash, which is usually looped over the wrist of my camera-holding hand, makes for an interesting photo session, and some blurry and poorly composed pics. I don't mind...it's become part of the fun.

In fact, Ranger's antics are very entertaining. He loves all the rocks and trees and seaweed and crabs and other fascinating things that he finds on the beach. Like a little red mountain goat, he climbs up and down all the obstacles he meets, scampering over huge rocks and investigating drift logs. He keeps his head down and nose ALWAYS on the ground, sniffing enthusiastically every moment. So many interesting things for a dog to explore!

Here Ranger has wedged himself between a wall of rocks and the end of a massive drift log. Rather than turn around, he decided to go up and over the end of the log, and in one fluid motion, he was free again. I definitely have to work to keep up with him.

Eventually we made our way back up to the more populated end of the beach and found that even though the sun was gone, there were still plenty of people around. Enjoying the cool breezes off the water and the pale colors lingering around us, we all shared a contentment in the gathering twilight of a perfect Pacific Northwest evening