Pieces

Sharp Shards become Smooth Bits

Clear Trash into Cloudy Gems

Broken still Is

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Gems

We continued to discover and frequent gems of common interest.  A favorite was a park, nearby.  We became regulars to Salt Water State Park, a nice mile plus round trip walk from home.  Here the small public beach is choked by privately owned beaches, sea walls, rock cliffs, logs and rules.  The semi-sandy beach is about forty yards by twenty at high tide.  Currently more than half covered by the naturally occurring, growing… log pile gifted by storms and kept in place by law.  In the summer months the tide recedes further, if lucky enough or planned you can carefully walk out another fifty yards or so, on the Barnacle covered rocks amongst the tide pools.  Here at an edge of the Puget Sound, where the ocean’s water works its way around the San Juan Islands, the small waves are more like swells.  These tired waves sort of heave themselves, splashing, thudding and pounding against the rocks.  Despite its shortcomings, Sarrah loved this place instantly.  She would often Insist on going there by taking a hard right, instead of the left turn on our usual daily trek down Marine View Drive.  I am certain that my occasional ‘giving in’ further fueled this action, but making time to enjoy small victories is good for all.  We probably hoofed that all terrain trek at least five hundred times over the years, and around one hundred shorter versioned, driven in stops.

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Sarrah loved the Puget Sound, especially all of the creatures and smells that come with it.  She happily stole bits of clam, crab and mussels from harassed crows and seagulls, who had dropped them onto the paved pathways to break them open.  We walked the beach in search of sea glass (to collect) and sand dollars (to throw back), along the gurgling creek looking for fish, around the grounds and trails for less crowded nature.