Washington: Picnic Point Beach at low tide

Originating from a desert climate, Antho and I aren't exactly people who have had an overabundance of time spent exploring tide pools and beaches, so the multiplicity of them available here has been astounding. I mean, sure, when I lived in Japan I'd make a point of it to walk along the river that ran through Urayasu and I'd gawk in wonder as the decrepit fishing boats' bones were exposed as the tide retreated, revealing hulls encrusted in barnacles, but these opportunities are quite rare to indulge in the Mojave desert. Here in Washington, there's an array of biomes available to explore, from the rocky beaches dotting the Puget Sound to deep, densely green growths of forest cropping out from anywhere a human has neglected to tame. Crows, bunnies, and squirrels roam the streets of Seattle proper, and I've even spotted a herd of goats in the densely populated University District! Washington and Seattle's city streets are teeming with life, and the Sound carving up the region provides so many beaches and waterfront sanctuaries that we really have no excuse not to explore. 

When the tide's glossy grip retreats from the beach at Picnic Point beach, all sorts of life is revealed from the normally hidden aquatic world. We have visited Picnic Point Park during high tide when it's an entirely different place, so seeing it transformed is fascinating- at least to me. I was unable to join Antho on the beach on this particular outing, so he took all the photos for me and I was able to look over them later to see what I missed. He found much evidence of moon snails, a strange aquatic critter that bores holes through the shells of smaller mollusks and grows to an outlandish (to our appraisal) size. With the water retreated, crows and herons flock to the soggy shore to pluck up snacks galore, from crabs to snails to full-on fish. Sad jellyfish and a staggering, swishy drunk man join the menagerie, backed by the steady serenade of the waves dashing against the land's edge. I can just hear those tiny sea-weed dwelling bugs in their infernal hopping, clicking noise, eager to latch onto any passing food-source and leave itchy welts to remember them by. 

We'll definitely be back. Nothing is ever static, and while life is constantly changing, the changing of the tides is a good reminder that sometimes it's best to just go with the flow. You can fight the current, but if you're patient it'll change soon enough. In the meantime, enjoy the crustaceans and getting sprayed by mysterious mollusks as they flee into the depths of the sand. 

Seattle: Sunset on the Waterfront

When it comes to the Emerald City (in this particular case we're talking Seattle, not Oz), there are no shortages of places to take in stunning views of the varied and vibrantly vivacious greenery, but perhaps the abundance of waterways available would surprise you...or perhaps this abundance of aquatic resources is no surprise- after all, all those trees and gardens need hydration, and Seattle is certainly well-endowed with water. Whether you're taking in the scenic views of the Puget Sound, or enjoying a leisurely picnic at Gasworks Park over Lake Union, or simply taking a stroll alongside any number of smaller or residential lakes, ponds, water constitutes roughly 40% of the overall city's footprint and that's not counting the long months of drizzle or occasional snow. Of course, Seattle is a city that is ever-changing and ever-growing, so that balance of land to water is likely to change as time goes on, and the city's not afraid to utilise the waterfront spaces to reclaim land and literally build their own ground upon the seafloor, as they did around Occidental Square and nearby sports stadiums.

All this water, however, is absolutely wonderful for desert-born and raised weirdos like Antho and I, so we rarely grump about this abundance.  When we had the opportunity to make our way down to the beautiful, scenic walkways alongside the Waterfront, we went for it! You can easily access it from Pike's Place Market, so if you're visiting there you could squeeze in a walk along the water and take in an array of sights, snacks and scenery. Now that the Alaskan Way Viaduct is closed up for good, the Waterfront is going to change and expand immensely over the next decade as an ambitious redevelopment plan sweeps through the area. During this particular visit, however, the Viaduct was still operational, so this preserves a snapshot of a bygone era.  Crazy how these things can happen, one day a familiar icon and the next it's being deconstructed to pave the way for bigger, purportedly brighter, things. Whether all this change will end up being for the greater good, or simply result in the pockets of several developers getting fatter, is up to time to determine, but given that the Alaskan Way Viaduct was a known safety hazard in the event of a serious earthquake, I'm actually leaning towards the former option. I know, a bit of a shockingly optimistic view coming from me, right? I guess all this sunshine has me feeling some sort of way. 

(RIP Viaduct)

Grab your fursuit and get ready, there are plenty more photos below!

Washington: Icy Winter's Morn

Is it cold where you are or are you gliding into the dog days of summer? Here, now, it's pretty chilly, with winter's grasp holding firm over the Puget Sound and surrounding regions. Clouds in various shades of grey generally dominate the skyscape, though there are the occasional bursts of blue and hints of the sun's warmth breaking through to remind you it still dances out there, just beyond the blanket of moisture hovering above. While it's generally just shy of cold enough to snow, we still get ample rain that, in the coldest hours of the darkest portions of the evening, can freeze over to a delicate frost decorating the world when we wake. Depending on the morning after, the frost can last for a surprisingly variable window of time before dissolving into steam in the sun's rays. Like I said above, though- it's rarely cold enough to snow, with the chance of it snowing on Christmas day somewhere around 7% or lower. That's generally a good bit more likely than in Vegas, where they average only 2 inches of rain per year (whereas the Seattle area gets an average of about 37.5 inches of rain per year).  I'm no statistician, but even I can see the odds of a white Christmas in Vegas are exceedingly slim- though it has happened, once, in 2008, so it's not an utterly impossible thing, just exceptionally improbable. Not so improbable as to get your ship to the restaurant at the end of the universe, but certainly improbable enough to note. 

Antho and I, of course, have been luxuriating in the cold and ambient moisture in this variable and transforming an environment. Waking to a bright, cloudless morning with our world metamorphized by a glittering profusion of ice droplets is fascinating, and new.  While we slept, a giant came through and dropped fistfuls of glitter, or perhaps a fleet of faeries flew in with an army of bedazzlers and spackled everything they could in shimmer. But again, like most of the magical things in life, this beauty is fleeting and as the rays of sunlight dance across the droplets they begin to lose form and evaporate, disappearing into the ether.  All this hydration means that the plant life, at least that hardy enough to weather the declining temperatures, is still thriving. We were surprised to find these brilliant pink blossoms bursting into abundant bloom after the rains started sweeping the area with more vigorous regularity. We hope you enjoy this glimpse into the fleeting beauty of the beads of ice on this brisk winter's morning!

Washington: Picnic Point Park Sunset and High tide

I've done a post showing off how gorgeous Picnic Point Park is before, but that was during low-tide, which is an entirely different sort of experience from the park during high-tide, which is when these photos were taken. If you're not really familiar with the significant difference the tide makes, I understand- coming from the desert, there was a long portion of my life where I really didn't comprehend or appreciate just how much the tide can change, and how heavily that impacts the landscape. The Pacific Northwest, and especially Seattle, is predominantly rocky cliffs and forested hills jutting out of the surf, in case names like Queen Anne Hill or Capitol Hill weren't suggestive enough. Some of these hills are artifical, like the majority of Occidental Park and the nearby sports stadiums that house Seattle's professional sports teams, but the natural ones are largely the result of volcanic and tectonic activity causing the plates to protrude and gain altitude. In a city with as much water as Seattle has, either surrounding or occupying space within it, being above sea-level is a wise thing to consider when looking at real-estate.  

Picnic Point Park is close to several different small cities north of Seattle, making it a popular destination for the locals of those various little municipalities. On this particular visit we found the beach somewhat less crowded than the last time, which was a nice surprise, but the high water levels combined with the bracing cold might serve as an explanation for the absence of other visitors. Sure, it was brisk, but we had an excellent time wandering the beach and watching the sunset. Our friend Christina went with us, taking photos of her own and providing commentary as she's much more knowledgeable about the area than we are. She's been living in Washington for years now and is an active outdoorswoman who gets out and takes photos whenever the opportunity presents itself. It was her idea to go to the beach, in fact, and who are we to argue?  

There are, of course, ample photos below!

Washington: Sunset at Picnic Point park

Coming from the Mojave desert and its unfriendly clime full of rattlesnakes, scorpions, mountain lions, Gila monsters, and seemingly endless inhospitable expanses of desiccated, arid land, Washington state is something of a mind-blower to nestle into. Not only does life profusely pop up from any crevice it can take a root in, as exemplified by the colorful variety of mosses that pop up upon startlingly varied surfaces or the curious caps of any variety of mushroom that makes its way to the surface from the mysterious depths below, or the dense groves of forest crawling from any uninhabited corner, but it thrives! Never before in my life, or Antho's, have we witnessed such a profligate procession of fungus! Or moss! It's so wet here, things gladly grow and grow. It's strange to be so inundated with moisture that you have ample to spare, after our lives being so deeply marked by the severe absence of this necessary fluid. I spent years, literally years, suffering from dry, cracking lips that would sometimes be so severe that the simple act of smiling or trying to speak would lead to bleeding. It was the pits, and no amount of chapstick seemed to help- hell, if anything, it leads to more intense shedding of my epidermis. No fun, believe you me. Two months in Washington's moist climate (say it with me, MOIST), the ambient humidity of the environment has healed what years and profuse amounts of money couldn't.  Maybe I should have just bought a humidifier... 

So, naturally, when we had more time to spare prior to nailing down our current jobs, we'd spend much of our free-time exploring. There's no shortage of places to adventure off to, with Seattle itself having over 6,000 acres of parks incorporated into it, and the outlying areas riddled with hiking trails and forests. We're pretty close to the Puget Sound in our new home, and we couldn't take root without going to see what all the fuss is about! Amusingly, during our very first walk along Picnic Point park's beach, a group of young stoners was loudly going about their teenaged shenanigans, and one of the youth's approached us to compliment Antho on his sweater and muse on the wonders of Washington. "Where else can you watch the sun rise over the Cascades and set over the Olympics?!"

Nowhere, man. Thanks for reminding us, dude.

And it's beautiful here. Crowded, yes, with roughly 7 million people living in the Seattle metropolitan area, but I strove to minimize the intrusion of other humans into my shots, so you get a vision of the park that isn't exactly 100% on point with the reality of the situation, but lets us enjoy the beauty of the scenery. After all, bright, sunny days are often a rarefied commodity here in the Pacific Northwest, where winters can seem to stretch interminably in their grey days, so you can't really fault the locals for wanting to get out and enjoy it while the loveliness lasts!

Picnic Point Park is surrounded by residential areas, too, despite being so close to the water. I can't begin to imagine how expensive the homes with the views are, and there are private beaches not far from this public place, but the park remains open to the public to enjoy and take in the view, for which we're grateful. There's a whole world of wonders out there to explore, and it's pretty cool to have a glimpse of some the more natural offerings from our own backyard.

There's even all sorts of new and unusual lifeforms to discover, like this sad jellyfish!