Posted in Birds and other fun topics

Misty Salish Sea Moments

Beach time today was a misty affair. Here I am on the shore of Puget Sound at Ocean View enjoying a bit of fog at high tide. The sound is part of the Salish Sea. This inland sea of North America extends from Strait of Georgia (in Canada) south through the Strait of Juan de Fuca and of course Puget Sound.

We are going to start with a tug pulling a large barge crossing over the path of several Washington State Ferries.  The mist, high tide and the sun starting to peek out all created a double vision reflection. (if you saw my pond reflections this is similar but yet not).

At first I was fascinated by just the tug and barge.  I saw them coming around the point and this series shows them getting closer and closer (really an illusion since I used my telephoto on them).

Misty tug and barge chugging along on Puget Sound
Can you see the tug & barge a little better?

See what I mean by the illusion that the water, mist & sun has created?  It gets better!

Is it a Ghost Tug?
And is this a ghost barge on Puget Sound?

When I thought that was the best illusion it got better. Three Washington State Ferries joined the party of ghost ships in the mist.

Ghost Ferries joined the fun
Cormorant salutes the ferry and barge as they cross
Ghostly vessels on the Salish Sea seem to kiss
Cormorant waves good bye

The ferries were not going to let the barge out do them. They decided they had to do a bonding dance in the mist too. Check out their ghostly moment.

Ferry dance in the mist of the Salish Sea
Illusion or Reality? Dancing or Floating?

Not to be out done the birds were actively fishing. In the dancing ferry photo you can see a small flock of Sea Scoters. They have the goofiest faces but they are serious fishers. They dive in unison and feast on the bounty of the sound.

Sea Scoters – a larger sea duck
Popping back up after a fishing moment

There I was feeding my crows peanuts and this huge flock of ducks flew into our cove. I mean a lot of ducks. They were in silhouette from the sun, so it was tough to see details or color. I tried to figure out what kind they are but just not have enough data.

Ducks at Ocean View in the mist
Ducks mobbing our cove

And a little bit of a video so you can see how many there are. You can also hear the crows giving me hell and a dog on the beach. Hard for our black bird friends to be quiet.

I leave you with a couple final sweet moments in time at the beach on the Salish Sea.

Misty moment on Puget Sound to calm the beast in us.
Scoter and sail boat navigate the fall misty moment.
Posted in History and other topics

What is my Story?

I am a worm-eaten piece of driftwood.  One of many on a Salish Sea beach.  What story do I have to tell? Like many things in this world we are overlooked and forgotten. Time marches on and those that knew us have come and gone.  Their story too is hidden behind a curtain of years.


Here I am pushed up onto the gravel.  What makes me so special you ask?  Why do I have a story?  Look at these big spikes pounded into my side. Three can be seen by the casual beachcomber.  How in the heck did I get these?  You have to know a tree didn’t just do it to itself.


Batgurrl found me today and started to make up stories of how and why I had these big metal nails.

  • She sees an old log raft 100 years ago.  Nearby Seola ravine was used as a log skid and even had a small railroad wind down through its canyon (built 1905).  Early on loggers pushed the logs out into the sound. Then huge floating rafts of logs were pulled to the mills. Was this log part of a log raft?  Were those huge nails part of what held a log raft together? Did a storm break things up and this log escaped to float from beach to beach?
  • Another story she thought up is around how the Arroyos area was a large gravel pit. The trucks drove down the beach past where this log sits. They went to the end of Seola road and then the gravel was trucked up the road that had replaced the railroad. Was this old log used in some way for that operation?
  • What forest did this log come from?  If it is so worm-eaten how old was the tree? Doing the math she dates me back hundreds of years.  A hundred more or less rolling around the sound getting full of holes and then another hundred or so growing from a seedling.

I will hold my secrets here on the beach along with my rusted spikes that are stuck in my flanks.  I will roll around the beach and maybe float to another place.  There someone else will wonder where I came from and what stories I cannot speak.


Final thoughts – time passes quickly and all around us are things that have lost their purpose. What will a future person think when they see a hundred years from now our plastic and metal debris?  or even this same worm-eaten log with big spikes in it? Will the story of these objects be lost? One has to think so.

Ah the mystery of a rather boring piece of driftwood on a deserted beach along the Salish Sea. I hope this bit of whimsy sparked your Sunday imagination of time and space.