August 19:
I needed a walk, but when I headed up Chuckanut towards Bellingham I wasn’t exactly sure where that walk was going to be. And then I found myself turning into Larrabee State Park. I’ve done hikes to Clayton Beach and Fragrance Lake, but I don’t think I’ve visited the main part of the park for several years.

I decided to do some exploring. I found the old tunnel I remember (built in 1935), with the happy mural painted inside it. After I came out of the tunnel, I followed the trail to the left and walked out to some cool rock outcrops with views of the bay, and a memorial bench to Bruce Emery Sherlaw. (I just googled to find out more about Bruce and learned he was a writer, tap dancer, singer, teacher, actor, and taekwondo black belt! And he was only 22 when he passed!) https://www.legacy.com/…/name/bruce-sherlaw-obituary

Then I followed the trail back to where I’d started, and went down to the beach.

I loved the vibes down on the beach – there was a cheery dad skipping rocks on the water; children wading into the bay; young folks lounging in the sun; and smiling pups, drenched in saltwater. I leaned against a big log next to a vollyball net and just soaked in the ambiance.

There was a song playing in the background that I recognized as a blast from the past: “When everything’s meant to be broken/ I just want you to know who I am.” I moved under the vollyball net and to the other side, to ask about the song. I think the people playing the music thought, at first, I was there to complain about the volume or something, and were getting ready to apologize – but I laughed and told them I really liked that song, and thanked them for playing it. I asked them what it was and they told me “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls. I nodded, remembering. I told them it was the perfect song – because that’s what we all want, right? For people to know who we are. I said it was making me a little teary, and they smiled at me in a kind way, understanding.

And then I moved beyond them and out to where the rocks jut out into the bay. I found a golden fly on the sandstone, the word “HOPE” written in the recess of a boulder, and, above me, sap sparkling on a tree. (I took pictures of all of that and put them in another post.) Magic everywhere!

And then I went back to the trail and hiked up to the place where the tree with the sparkling pitch jutted out over the water. I found a memorial bench to Dr. Robert F. Kaiser tucked into the side of the trail up there. (My googling tells me that Dr. Kaiser was a Bellingham ophthamologist, renowned in his field.)

I stood on the bluff for a while, looking out at the water, snapping photos, filling my soul with all the peace around me, before heading back to my car and home.

I love being a tourist, and I don’t have to travel far to be one.
(Photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)