A walkway to a little island appears during minus tides only 40 days per year, right across the street from our hotel. We were kayaking during the lowest point this morning, but returned in time to wade out for a quick island visit before the water was again too deep to traverse. We first observed the isthmus when we arrived yesterday, and I’ve been saying and spraying the word at every opportunity since. You try it.
For the 4th, we joined friends at their neighborhood beach club on the lake. We paddle boarded, kayaked, swam, played foosball and ate. And it was just barely warm enough to do it all.
So much driftwood lines the beaches of puget sound. Past visitors have made forts that the kids and visiting friends played in during a visit to Whidbey Island today. They made new forts too, while Ruth and I obsessively combed the beach for sea glass and unique rocks. Tons of rocks, very little sea glass.
Yesterday we went to a local beach on the lake about 10 minutes from our house. Well, it’s less a beach in the way we know one to be, and more a “swim area at a park”, which takes entirely too long to say. So when I referred to it as the beach, the kids would say, “it’s not a beach!” That didn’t deter them from enjoying the place though. Two swam, just as I did growing up, inside the roped-in area, staying clear of the rowboating lifeguards as they swapped out positions, diving for rocks and shells (freshwater clams?) in the murky (but more transparent than VB ocean) water. The third was perfectly happy sunbathing on the shore, which I will clarify, was grass, not sand. Because it wasn’t a beach.
The Patriotic Festival was at the oceanfront this weekend. Just blocks away, we never had time to make it down. Between a swim meet, baseball game, farewell party and life in general, the best we could do was watch the airshow from our street. For 10 minutes. It was a far cry from a year ago, when the Blue Angels came. We still enjoyed the show, with more interest and enthusiasm than last time.