Flower festivals

Every year nearby in the Skagit Valley a Tulip Festival is held, April 1-30. On the way back from Whidbey Island yesterday, some of us stopped by the RoozenGaarde acreage to see how the tulips are coming along this year. It turns out they have lots of daffodils already, and after the tulips show their stuff, there are also acres of iris flowers to admire. I'll try to make it to each one.

We didn't expect to find anything other than the early-bird crocus, but there were a great number of different kinds of daffodils already in full bloom. I thought there is a difference between jonquils, narcissus, and daffodils, thinking that the ones I labeled here (above) as jonquils were a different species, but according to Wikipedia, they are all daffodils, same species with lots of different varieties. I've captured a few of them here, taken yesterday (March 4). And we even saw a few tulips beginning to show color! This is truly amazing. According to the website linked above,

This is one of the earliest daffodil blooms we have on record – due to the unseasonably warm winter weather. More daffodil fields will begin to show color in a very short time, and we expect some of the tulip fields to start showing some color towards the second half of March!!!

Here is one field we saw on the way back to the highway:

And of course we saw crocuses of many different kinds at RoozenGaarde. This one captured my heart, with the beautiful stripes and that amazing center! (Click any picture to enlarge.)

All four of the pictures above were taken yesterday either at RoozenGaarde or on the way home after our beautiful hike. But just now, while I was musing about how to present these wonderful flowers to you, I snapped this final picture of some crocus outside my apartment. I apologize to all of the snowbound Easterners for this imprudent display, but I just could not resist!

:-)

Ebey's Landing

Today eighteen Senior Trailblazers took a fairly long car trip down to Ebey's Landing, which is located on Whidbey Island near the town of Coupeville. (Click any pictures to enlarge.) We went over the Deception Pass bridge and headed south to Ebey's Landing, a beautiful national historic reserve on the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Some information:

Ebey’s Landing is the nation’s first historical reserve, created in 1978 to protect a rural working landscape and community on Central Whidbey Island. The reserve contains 17,500 acres, 18 working farms, 400 historical structures, native prairies, two state parks, miles of shoreline, a network of trails and the second oldest town in Washington.

After we parked, we headed up a bluff to a wonderful overlook of the area: on a clear day, one can look west to the Olympic Peninsula and the Strait of Juan de Fuca; south to Mt. Rainier: and east over historic farmland and prairie to the Cascades. We hiked a few miles along the bluff and then we headed down to the beach.

The day started in Bellingham without a cloud in the sky, but as we headed south, the clouds built and we even had some sprinkles while in our cars. Not sure what the conditions would be for the day, we took everything with us when we started the hike. But the day got more and more clear, and by the time we stopped for lunch, we had more sun than clouds.

We had lunch on the beach, and some of us headed back up to the top of the sand dunes (since the sun had come out and pictures were beckoning), and others walked along the paradise to beachcomb and peruse all those wonderful rocks!

After we got back to the cars, we had an impromptu birthday party for Karen (with a birthday cake and candles, compliments of Amy) before we headed back home. It was a wonderful unforgettable day. I myself was assailed with memories of other times I have walked along the beach and smelled those smells, other times I've listened to the gentle crashing of the surf,and warmed myself in the rays of the sea-level sun. It was a great day, and now I'm ready to relax as soon as I post this!
:-)

In the groove

Yesterday I read this fascinating article in Runner's World about how to tie your shoes properly. There's also a great video on this website to show you how to tie a reef knot rather than a granny knot. (The one on the left is a reef knot; the one on the right a granny knot.)

The thing I found really interesting is that I couldn't decide which way I tied my shoes until I put a pair on and watched how I tied them. Yep, reef knot. I've never had a problem with my shoes coming untied, but I had to watch the video and re-tie my shoes several times before I could be SURE I was doing it right.

What I realized in the process is that I never think about how to tie my shoes, I just do it. The process is so deeply ingrained that it seemed it would be almost impossible to re-learn how to tie my shoes. The Runner's World article originally came to me through an editorial on the New York Times entitled "Sometimes the Smallest Things" by a guy who had been doing it wrong all his life and learned how to change it.

I watched Smart Guy tie his shoes. He does it entirely differently than I do, but he also ties a reef knot. How about you? And how does one get out of such a deeply ingrained groove in order to change it?
:-)

Feeding the birds

I've written about my feeding the birds around here several times. This lovely chickadee comes to visit me often and is mostly interested in the feeder that has black oil sunflower seeds. (Click any picture to enlarge.) I also have two suet feeders which are visited by woodpeckers, flickers and bushtits, and occasionally the chickadees.

My two nyjer-filled "socks" are only visited by the goldfinch, and they also have an upside-down feeder that is theirs alone. Occasionally a nuthatch will show up. This winter brought the return of the juncos, who left for the summer and fall. On the ground I scatter something called "premium no-grow," with shelled sunflower seed pieces, peanut hearts, and other good stuff. The juncos and the sparrows all come in a flurry when they see I've put this out, since it doesn't last long. The jays and the squirrels think I put it out for them. Here's a jay on the porch eating the no-grow.

I love to feed the birds. It gives me such pleasure to see them, and I know some of them because of unusual markings or, in the case of that favorite sparrow, a broken wing that differentiates him from the others. It means I spend a fair amount of money on birdseed, and it requires me to clean up after them so nobody gets sick, including us. The squirrels and I have an ongoing battle to keep them from eating everything in sight. Even though I chase them away, I would miss them if they didn't come around. Here's the squirrel getting ready to launch onto the porch from the tree.

If I didn't feed the birds, I wouldn't have to chase the squirrels away, because they would soon discover there is nothing here of interest. They would go bother the other people who feed the wildlife. But my dilemma is this: is it wrong to feed the birds? They have become dependent on my handouts, there's no question. They will probably lay more eggs this spring because of me.

It worries me a little because I want to be a good citizen of the planet, of the earth, and I have been wondering lately if my desire to watch the birds up close has been fair to them. What do you think?
:-}

Missing in action

Yes, I know. I've been missing in action. I have had my nose buried in this book, Cutting for Stone, for the past few days, and I'm only halfway through. Every page of this book is filled with such vivid imagery and the characters are so alive to me that I must force myself to put it down every now and then. Even though I want to skip ahead to find out what's going to happen, I'm afraid of missing something of the beautifully drawn characters, so I refuse to rush through this story. A short excerpt from the San Francisco Chronicle:

Not a word is wasted in this larger-than-life saga. ... Verghese expertly weaves the threads of numerous story lines into one cohesive opus. The writing is graceful, the characters compassionate and the story full of nuggets of wisdom.

I waited until this book came out in paperback, which was just recently, before I bought it. I cannot recommend it highly enough if you want a big (667 pages) and absorbing book to read. I'll be back when I'm done!
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Silence of the yams

I've been reading Michael Pollan's latest book, Food Rules, when I'm on the bus or sitting quietly at home. It's entirely different from his last two books that I have read, The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food. Both of those books are long and involved, with lots of references and places to go for more information. That is not to say I didn't enjoy both of them immensely. This one is based on his seven words about how to choose what to eat:

Eat food. Mostly plants. Not too much.

The book is divided into those three parts, with little sayings at the top of each of 64 Food Rules. The title of this blog is from Rule #8:

Avoid food products that make health claims.

He says that really good foods don't need to make health claims, because they are not usually in a package. Only the big food manufacturers have enough money to get FDA-approved health claims for their products. From p. 19 of the book:

The healthiest food in the supermarket -- the fresh produce -- doesn't boast about its healthfulness, because the growers don't have the budget or the packaging. Don't take the silence of the yams as a sign they have nothing valuable to say about your health.

Another thing I like about the book is that he isn't an absolutist, he just asks that you read the book and take at least one thing from each of the three sections. The book takes only a short while to read, but it's a lovely thing to carry around with you to start conversations. Plus it helps to be chuckling at some witty thing Pollan wrote to lighten up your day. Eating well doesn't need to be a grim business!
:-)

Chinscraper trail

You know I can never resist a picture of a mossy tree, and this one is no exception. (Click any picture to enlarge.) The day was a little rainy and overcast when we started out, and although the forecast was for it to stop raining, I didn't expect any views today. There's a reason this trail we took in the Chuckanuts is called "Chinscraper trail." Fourteen Senior Trailblazers started the hike on an old logging road that winds moderately uphill. I say "moderately," because when we turned off to start the hike up Chinscraper, the uphill got decidedly steeper. We gained 1,800 feet in around three miles, and many places where a switchback would have been welcome, the trail just went straight up. I had to stop several times to catch my breath.

By the time we reached Gates Overlook, there was little to see except the fog that had rolled in, and we were drenched with sweat from having pushed so hard to get up Chinscraper trail to the overlook. Usually you have a great view of Bellingham Bay from here. After a short break and time to add clothing, we decided to hike to Fragrance Lake for lunch, giving us a round trip of a little more than 9 miles by the time we would get back to the trailhead.

Once we reached Fragrance Lake, the sun broke out, and by the time we headed back, there wasn't a cloud in the sky! Although it was a little chilly, we had a nice lunch and some of us played around near the water. Mike always has his umbrella with him on rain days, and this was no exception. We call him "Mikey Poppins" for obvious reasons.

The completely clear skies didn't last long, though, and on the way back a few of us took a quick side trip (just a quarter mile) to a viewpoint that I couldn't resist, since there was a possibility for a picture! This was taken at the viewpoint looking out over Bellingham Bay. You can see the clouds have already started to roll back in.

All in all, it was a very satisfying day, with rain, wind, fog, and even sunshine! To hike with these special friends of mine is always a pleasure, too. I am truly blessed.
:-)