Is this a hunk of gristle, from Dungeness Spit?
No. Seaweed.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: gristle.
I had an errand in Sequim yesterday. I finish quickly and the sun comes out. I head right for Dungeness Spit.
I did not hike that far, only for a couple of hours. It was really beautiful and I hit it when the tide was finishing going out and started back in. Do pay attention to the tides if you go there!
I could see Victoria from the spit.

It is so beautiful with the sun coming through the forest too.

I am thankful for a beautiful and vibrant spring day. “Spring?” you say. Yes, look. On the hike back through the woods, the leaves are out and even some new flowers. Spring starts early here!

For the Ragtag Daily Post: vibrant.
Resources: https://www.wta.org/go-hiking/hikes/dungeness-national-wildlife-refuge
https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/washington/dungeness-spit-trail
Yes, ducks with Mohawks, these ducks are rebels and rascals. I saw a gang fishing, probably without a fishing license, out at Fort Worden this week. They couldn’t be bothered to notice me. Hopefully they didn’t notice that I was capturing their picture.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rascal.
These are red-breasted mergansers. Read more here.
Taken two mornings ago.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: balloon. The space in the clouds is balloon shaped, isn’t it?
I took this yesterday. For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: drama.
you are so beautiful
I love you so much
and I see you
so clearly
I look at you
I wish
you could see me
you see the darkness
the bear
you carry with you
and project
on me
you hold the bear
at a distance
you see it
all the time
in other people
when the bear comes
I hold open my arms
and welcome it
and I don’t yell
the bear roars
with dripping teeth
tries to terrify me
and I reach for it
me too
I say
come meet
my monsters
all my monsters
anger fear grief
shame
come out
the bear
stares at them
they hold out
their arms
the bear bows
his head
and we surround him
and welcome him
and love him
the bear cries
because you don’t love him
the bear cries
and cries and cries
we hold the bear
and cuddle him
and feed him
and try to warm him
and do the best we can
but we are not you
you come towards me
seeing the bear
fortified by my monsters
you attack
and my monsters hide
and hide your bear
and you stand
sword ready
to split us apart
confused
where is the bear?
you are sure
you see a bear
but it is gone
and I am a little girl
the naked sword is raised
the gun is loaded
you and weapons ready
no bear
you lower the gun
the sword
and make excuses
and leave
and the bear
hugs us all
thanks us
as you leave
the bear walks faster
nearly a shambling run
and dissolves into you
we wave
my monsters and I
we wave goodbye again
send love
to you and your bear
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: myopic.
B and I have been walking the beaches a lot since we returned from our trips in January.
We are noticing how much the beach changes daily. The high winter tides wash sand out and back in. Some days the beach is covered with pebbles and some days it is smooth sand. The boulders move and the cliffs do too.
With the heavy rains this year, sections of cliff collapse. We have both edged closer to the water when we see sections of sand and clay that have fallen: some are as large as a car or larger. We would not survive if that fell on us.

Trees hang on for as long as they can, but they fall too.

We also see root systems exposed when a section of the cliff falls and know that those trees are struggling to survive.
We are debilitated by the length of the pandemic, but going out walking every day, watching birds and trees and the beach change, the eagles flirting, the seals peering out of the water, this renews me. I hope you have a place to walk.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: debilitating.
I love Great Blue Herons. We have a lot. I love them best in trees, because they still look strange to me in trees. They will perch right on the top of our tall Pacific Northwest trees and look like peculiar Christmas tree toppers. Alien angels. Their bones are lighter than ours, so they can stand on a limb that would not hold me or you.
Boa Black would often wait in the yard, watching. What was she waiting for?
These:

Boa really liked the fawns. She would wait and watch the path into my second lot.
I have a 1930 house and a 1930 garage. The garage is on the lot line and one side extends five feet into a second lot, that is set at 90 degrees to the house lot. I quit mowing the second lot when I was divorced, working, and had two kids. I talked to the neighbors on the block and no one objected. The lot is hidden from the road by a huge bank of rosa rugosa.
The deer have used the lot in some years to stash young fawns while they made their rounds.
This is taken with a 26X zoom, so the fawn saw me but did not get spooked. Actually the fawn was hopping around in the second lot and managed to look guilty when I first saw it. Uh-oh, mom told me to stay hidden. It lay down and tried to pretend it had been behaving the entire time.
Boa Cat died in early 2020, after 17 years with me, a kitten from the pound. In memorium.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: twist.
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in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
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En fotoblogg
Books by author Diana Coombes
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in search of a better us
Personal Blog
Art from the Earth
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Anne M Bray's art blog, and then some.
My Personal Rants, Ravings, & Ruminations
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