Visiting an 800-Year-Old Friend

Posted on August 21, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

August 20:
I drove out to Deception Pass today to see an 800-year-old friend. Just knowing my old tree-friend is still there, still making oxygen for us, still standing tall, gives me hope for our planet. It was good to see her again.

I met NEW friends while I was there, too – Bucky the pup approached me with a wagging tail and a sweet doggy smile; and I met Mike, who was there with his young family. When Mike and I got to chatting, I learned he, too, had climbed Rainier – and I, of course, had to show him Dad’s Wikipedia page, and tell him about the paintings Dad had painted on K2 at 25,000 feet, back in 1953. (I love how Pop is still connecting me to new friends.)

I explored the beach for a bit – found an agate glowing up at me from a bed of pebbles, and snapped pictures of birds and driftwood and other cool beach-stuff. After I left Deception Pass, I drove to my favorite bookshop in Oak Harbor, The Book Rack, and treated myself to a new murder mystery (*A Cute Little Murder*) and a cupcake and cookie from their bakery. I sat there at a high table for a bit, swinging my legs, and reading from my new book, and soaking in the magic I always find in a bookstore.

And now a poem.

This is one I wrote for my old tree-friend back in 2022.

Be a Tree

The son and I talked about the tree
on the drive home.
850 years it had lived on this planet!
It had been seeded in the late 1100’s –
around the time of Genghis Khan
and England’s King John,
before Mansua Musa or Marco Polo,
da Vinci or Michelangelo.
Before Henry VIII, Elizabeth I, Shakespeare,
Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr. or Mooji.
It rooted into the soil as a tender seedling
and grew during the Black Plague; grew
while the ash from Krakatoa blocked the sun;
and while factories sprouted up across
the northern hemisphere. It grew while
soldiers fought to end slavery; while
World War I and World War II raged
across Europe; while our planet warmed;
and while division and despair
made humans sometimes wonder
if our planet was beyond repair.
It grew.
Quietly, without fanfare or medals
or approval or star ratings –
it lived, created oxygen, and grew –
because that is what trees do.
And maybe when it was older and sturdy,
indigenous children played in its bends
and called it “friend.”
I like to think that’s true.

Yesterday I visited my wise friend, Charles.
He could tell I was scared about our world.
“Just be present,” he said. “Be a tree.”

-Karen Molenaar Terrell
(Photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)

Annual Table Mountain Hike

Posted on August 12, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

When I drove up to Artist Point this morning, I’d been planning to do the Artist Point hike. But, once I got there, the Table Mountain hike called to me. It’s short – but it packs a punch. There’s a quick elevation gain (725 feet, according to the Washington Trail Association) up the side of a steep cliff, and there’s one place where hikers have to navigate a high step made for people with longer legs than me.

I try to do this hike every year, and I decided today was the day.

When I started out, the temperature was perfect – cool and breezey. I stopped every now and then to take pictures of Shuksan and butterflies, alpine flowers and the Bagley Lakes down below.

I managed to get myself over the high step by using a handhold I found in the cliff, and pretty quickly found myself at the top. I sat on a boulder and ate my trail mix and enjoyed the view.

On the way down, I kept thinking about that one place where I’d have to figure out how to get over that high step. In my experience, a rock scramble is always harder going down than going up. But here’s a cool thing – when I got to that spot on the trail, there were two young men – brothers – maneuvering around it as I got there. I was trying to figure out how to get out of their way, while they were trying to figure out how they could help me. The one brother said to the other: “She’s going to need to use that handhold.” And the other brother responded by giving me room to reach for it.

But, in the end, I found another way down. I said, “I think I’m just going to do this…” and I sat down on the step and lowered myself down. Easy!

When I turned the corner of the switchback, I saw a couple that I guessed were the parents of the young men. They confirmed this. Then I told them how kind their sons had been to me. I learned the family was visiting from Colorado and had never been to Mount Baker before. I told them that years ago I’d climbed a mountain in Colorado’s Collegiate Peaks called Mount Harvard, and they knew exactly what I was talking about. I pointed to Mount Baker and said I’d climbed that one, too – and now I look at it and think, “What was I thinking?!” Appu laughed and said, “You weren’t thinking and that is why you could do it!” The family was delightful. Appu kindly agreed to let me take her photo.

When I got off Table Mountain, I decided I wasn’t done with my hiking, yet, and drove on down to Heather Meadows to do a quick hike of the Fire and Ice Trail. And on THAT trail, I met more cool people! There were two couples – each with a toddler strapped to a parent’s front – and seeing the babies made me go right away to my grandma place. One of the little ones grinned at me from his pack and reached out to touch fingers. Awwww…

I told them it was so good to see them bringing their children into the mountains – away from screens – and they nodded and said, “Exactly!”

I don’t like posting pictures of children, but Sam and Addison, and Katie and Sean, agreed it would be fine for me to take a photo of them from the back. So there they are!

It was so good to be in the mountains again, my friends. The mountains are a healing place for me.

Hike to the Pinnacle Peak Saddle

Posted on July 17, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

We went up to Rainier yesterday to join family on a hike to the Pinnacle Peak Saddle. Along the way we met way cool people from all over the world; reminisced about other times we’ve hiked on this trail; saw butterflies flitting in the wildflowers, and came upon marmots, picas, and chipmunks.

We met Robert and Kathi, originally from Panama, and now living in Seattle. They told me they’d seen an animal that looked sort of like a badger. “Was it about this big?” I asked, and they nodded their heads. “You saw a marmot!” I told them. “Aren’t they cool?” They smiled and agreed and we talked for a bit about the hike and Rainier and… yeah, I brought Pop into the conversation, and told my new friends that Dad had guided me to the top of Rainier when I was younger.

A little later I met Tery, who works as a traveling nurse. We agreed that hikes in the mountains are a most wonderful escape from the stresses of “down below.”

We’d just about reached the point where the switchbacks begin, when a ranger volunteer came up the path from behind. It didn’t take me long to bring “Dee Molenaar” into the conversation. Stewart’s face lit up when he heard Dad’s name. He said Dad’s book, *The Challenge of Rainier* was his favorite climbing book, and he’d pretty much read them all. I love the connection Dad still brings me to mountain people, and I’m not going to apologize for using his name to meet cool new friends. I learned Stewart was originally from London, but he came to the States in 1979 and decided to make it his home.

We met a trio from the Philippines; a cheery family originally from Thailand, who now live in D.C.; and, at the top, we met a family from Provo, Utah – the patriarch originally grew up in the tri-cities area and likes to bring his family back periodically to share in the glories of Mount Rainier.

I talked with my brother and niece about my first climb of Pinnacle Peak when I was four-years-old. I remember being pretty tired on the hike part, but I also remember feeling energized when Dad and I reached the last climbing-scramble up to the top of the peak. I remember loving the climbing part. Later, when my brothers and I were teenagers, Dad took us all up together to the top of Pinnacle Peak. And when my oldest son was four, Dad guided Andrew and me up the peak. There are a lot of good memories in these hills.

I could feel Mom and Dad with me yesterday, and my sons. And Scotty actually WAS with me – we have a lot of memories together on this mountain. It was good to be making another one with him.

Check Out My Photo of Rainier in Mother Earth News

Posted on July 17, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

Check it out! Another one of my photos made it to the back page of Mother Earth News! This photo is especially meaningful to me because it is of the mountain that my father, Dee Molenaar, called “home.” It’s the mountain he climbed fifty times – one of them with me. It’s the mountain he wrote a book about – The Challenge of Rainier. He met my mom on this mountain – if not for this mountain, I, literally, wouldn’t be here! I worked on Mount Rainier during the summers between university. I met wonderful friends up there, hiked on its slopes every day after work, and made beautiful memories.

So I was beyond tickled when Mother Earth News contacted me to ask if my photo of Mount Rainier could be used on the “Photos from the Field” page. (I said yes.)

A Fourth of July Gift from the Cosmos

Posted on July 4, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

My friends, something really cool happened today!

I felt the need to go to a quiet place – somewhere away from the crowds and noise. I headed for Clayton Beach.

I’d gotten about half-way down the trail to the beach when I heard happy laughter and chatting behind me. I turned around to see about a dozen women coming down the trail. I pulled off to the side so they could pass, and they stopped to chat for a bit. I learned they were a hiking group from Hillcrest Church in Fairhaven. And then one of the women in the back stepped forward and I recognized Francine – the mother of three of my former eighth graders – and the pediatrician who’d been called in at the birth of my oldest son. Francine is one of my favorite people, but I haven’t seen her for years. It was cosmic to run into her in the middle of a trail in the Chuckanut woods!

But wait! There’s more!

The group of women went ahead of me, and I followed behind, stopping to snap pictures every now and then. When I crossed the bridge over the train tracks, I found one of the women waiting for me on the other side. She asked me if I’d ever lived in Kitsap County. I told her that I’d actually graduated from high school there. She said she had, too, and then she asked me if I’d ever taught there. I almost answered no, and then I remembered that year I’d taken over a fifth grade class a month into the school year, years ago. It had been my first real teaching gig, and it had been a challenge for me. I told her the name of the school that had housed my fifth grade class, and she said she’d gone there, and so had her younger brother, David. She said she thought I’d been her brother’s teacher, and gave his last name. Immediately the face of her brother came into my thoughts – I remembered him, and I remembered what a cool kid he was!

I asked her where David was now, and she let me know he’d passed ten years ago. My heart sank. I told Julie how much I’d enjoyed her little brother. And then Julie told me that she remembered me as being a positive part of David’s life, and she remembered her parents had liked me. That meant a lot to me – I hadn’t felt like a success that year. To know that I’d had a positive impact on even one child’s life was a healing thing.

I went on down to the beach, took a right between the big rocks, and looked out at the water for a while. There was a nice breeze blowing down there. I always feel Love speaking to me when there’s a nice breeze, and I feel the love of loved ones who have departed. I thought about David and Francine and Francine’s children. Sweet memories. Sweet connections.

I moved back to the main beach. A pup came bounding down to the beach from the trail, leaped onto a log, bounced onto another log, and scampered back to her humans. She was delightful. Her humans gave me permission to take more photos of Tulia, and I managed to capture one of her as she peeked over a log at me.

I met up with the women from the Hillcrest church again before I started back up the trail. I told Julie that she had David’s eyes, and she smiled and asked, “I do?” I told her yes, I remembered David’s bright eyes. Francine and I hugged again, and she took a picture of us together to show to her daughter.

When I got to the bridge over the train tracks, I moved to the mesh wires to take a picture of the tracks, and just at that moment an AmTrak train came around the curve as if just for me! Grinning, I waved to the train and snapped pictures as it moved towards me.

It was a lovely walk back through the woods and to my car. My heart was all filled up with the wonder of the unexpected gifts the Cosmos continually sends me.

Photos in Mother Earth News

Posted on May 21, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

Check it out! I’ve got TWO photos on the back page of the June/July edition of Mother Earth News! (The photo of the dahlias was taken at Christianson’s Nursery in Mount Vernon, Washington; the photo of the strawberries was taken on our back deck in Bow, Washington. Another photographer took the cool picture of the ladybug on the spinach.)

Finding Magic on the Clayton Beach Hike

Posted on May 8, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

Oh, my friends! I really needed what I found on my Clayton Beach hike today: peace, stillness, quiet. I had a little mini vacation from my computer – there was no password I needed to remember or files I needed to access; no problems I needed to solve; no fears or worries or news demanding attention. It was lovely.

As I got near the beach, I saw a small family of deer crossing the path up ahead. Magic! And pretty soon Wes and Leigh appeared on the trail, coming my way. They told me that I had flushed the deer out for them – that the deer had turned towards them when they’d seen me. Leigh and Wes were as excited about the deer magic as I was. I love meeting other people who recognize magic when they see it.

When I got down to the beach, I found a boulder to sit on. Then I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the waves shushing onto the beach, and the birdsong coming from the forest. I felt rich beyond imagining.

I stayed down at the beach for a while, snapping photos, looking for agates (I didn’t find any today, but it was fun looking), enjoying my alone-ness.

When I headed back to my car I passed a group of hikers with toddlers and babies, being led by Jillian from the Whatcom YMCA. Jillian told me that the group meets every Thursday for a hike. How wonderful! Maz, Carina, and Jillian graciously posed for me and gave me the okay to post their photo on Facebook.

By the time I got back to my car, my soul was filled with birdsong and babies’ smiles, new friends and the magic of waves and rocks, the forest and life.

Otter Magic!

Posted on April 16, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

Major magic this morning, my friends!

This morning’s message from the Cosmos told me to take a walk on the Padilla Dike Trail. I have come to trust this Cosmic voice when I hear it – it always seems to lead me to the exactly right place I need to be. So I grabbed my camera and headed out to the trail.

Sometimes I just walk as far as the shed, but this time the voice told me to go to the cluster of benches about half-way down the trail. So I did that. And as I was looking out at the water, I saw a little head bob up and then disappear. I recognized what I was looking at right away – an otter! I LOVE otters! Transfixed, I waited for the head to surface again – and then I saw a whole family of otters was out there – I think I counted four of them! They moved towards me through the water – diving and rising – until they were right in front of me! One of them emerged from the water, happily chomping on a fish. Every now and then one of them would swim close to me and look at me – curious what I was all about. I was charmed.

I yelled to a man coming down the trail, “Otters!” And he came over to join me in the otter magic. Because it was a little cold this morning, I had thrown on my knitted pink hat (dating back to 2017) before I’d started on my walk. Now the man smiled down at me and told me he liked my hat. I asked him if he knew when I’d first worn this, and he nodded his head, and said he did. And this led to a conversation about politics – but it wasn’t one of those hopeless, depressing conversations about politics – this conversation was full of humor and hope.

The man, Pat, was a Vietnam vet, and he talked a bit about that. Then I saw he was wearing a jacket with a mountain logo on it, and I asked him if he was a climber. I learned he’d climbed Denali when he and his family had lived in Alaska, and I told him I’d climbed Rainier, Baker, Adams, and Hood in my younger days. And THEN I saw he was wearing a WSU cap, and he told me his daughter had gone to school there, and he was a Coug now. I told him my son and I had both gone there, too.

By this time the little family of otters had swum away, and I could see them scampering on the shore of the island not far out in the bay. I pointed them out to Pat, and we watched them for a little longer.

I asked Pat if I could take his photo – it would probably end up on FB, I told him, and asked him if that was okay. Pat told me he wasn’t on FB, but his wife was – and he’d let her find him there.

After Pat and I parted, I began my walk back to my car – I think I was smiling the whole way. I was so grateful to have seen the otters this morning. Magic!

The magic wasn’t done, yet, though. I discovered a whole ‘nother place I’d never been before – but I’ll put that in the next post.
(Photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)

Nudged by Love to Find the Magic

Posted on March 11, 2026 by Karen Molenaar Terrell

March 9:
This morning a series of what seemed like random happenings led me to run into a friend I rarely see – and brought me such joy! Later, as I contemplated this, it felt, to me, that the entire way I had been led by Cosmic Love – nudged and guided to that surprise meeting with my friend. And it occurred to me that this kind of magic is happening to us all the time – that Love is continually guiding us to beautiful gifts. I am so grateful for all the good that fills my life.

So here’s what happened:

I’d gone off at sunrise to make a run to Fred’s to get something for a friend. I hadn’t gone far on my drive when I came upon an amazing reflection of the sunrise in a flooded field. Magic! I took some quick pictures and continued on my errand.

I found what I needed for my friend, bought myself some groceries while I was there, and then, on impulse, got myself one of those Lindt creamy chocolate bars, too. (That candy bar is going to appear later in the story.) When it came time to ring me up, the total came to $66.66. “Six six six six,” the cashier said. “Well, that’s kind of scary,” I said, laughing. My friend, Patty, who was just about to come in as a cashier, started laughing then, too. She reminded me that the week ends with a Friday the Thirteenth, too. “Let’s round it up for the food bank,” I said (I was going to do that, anyway), and everyone nodded their heads in agreement that this was a good plan.

I drove home – stopping at my friend’s house to deliver what I’d gotten for her – and, when I got home, started unpacking the rest of my groceries. When I got to the bottom of my canvas bag, I realized that my candy bar was missing. Huh. It was such a small thing, at first I thought I’d just chalk it off as one of those things that happens sometimes, and move on. But I finally decided I might as well call Fred’s and see if a candy bar had been left behind and turned in to their customer service people. I was embarrassed to make the call asking about a candy bar (!), but the customer service person asked, “Lindt? Extra creamy?” And when I confirmed this, she said it was sitting right there, waiting for me. Whoah. I told her I’d be right in to pick it up.

There was a small line at customer service. When the woman ahead of me got up to the desk she bought a Powerball and a Lotto ticket. Although I’ve bought a lotto ticket for Scott a couple times when he’s asked me to – I have never, in my life, bought a lotto ticket for myself. I was kind of intrigued by the idea of it. The Mega Millions one is up to $533 million now. I started fantasizing about what it would be like to win something like that.

Anyway. So when it was my turn at the customer service desk, I announced myself as “the candy bar lady” and said I was really embarrassed about this. The customer service woman started laughing, and assured me that this kind of thing happens all the time, and handed me my Lindt bar.

I brought my candy out to the car, but then I thought again about that Powerball thing. It is a weird week with Friday the 13th and everything, and maybe, for me, it would be a LUCKY week. So I threw my Lindt bar into the car, and then headed back in to Fred’s to get myself one of them there Mega Million thingies – a vision of stacks of money tickling my brain.

When I got to the lobby, my friend, Amanda, entered from the other door – and there we were! It was so good to see her again! Amanda is one of those people that just exudes joy and kindness – and anyone blessed to be in her presence, feels it. I told her I was on my way in to buy a Lotto ticket of some kind, but I wasn’t really sure how to do it. She said her dad buys Lotto tickets sometimes, and walked me through what I needed to say to the clerk. I thanked Amanda, and started to turn away to go get a Lotto ticket, when I realized that being led to come back into the store hadn’t been about getting a Lotto ticket at all! It had been about running into Amanda in the lobby! I told Amanda this, and she grinned and nodded her head, and we stayed and chatted together for another ten minutes. It was wonderful.

I never did get a Lotto ticket.

On the way home, I took a side road and came upon a field of trumpeter swans flapping and honking and having a jolly good time. When I first got there, there were actually swans on both sides of the road, and – I do not think I’ve ever seen this before – a line of swans waddled across the road in front of me like they were pedestrians in a crosswalk. It was charming. Magic!