One of the wonders to me was being able to go where we wanted to, without Mom warning us not to go off the block. Living in the country had its advantages. We could climb to the top of a fir tree, and swing back and forth at each other, being careful not to climb up where the top would bend and break, but up high enough that we could see over the top of the barn! The boys were amazed that us girls could climb a tree! Daring us ever higher. Popping pitch pockets on the trunk was fun. The bubbles were just begging to burst, so we helped them. The resinous smell was intoxicating. And getting it into our long pigtails was a badge of honor.
We would go down to the beach at low tide and wonder at the weird stuff in the tide pools. Being raised in the city, we had never seen wonders such as these. Sea anemones that would turn inside out when poked with a stick. Jellyfish that we were told were called Man o Wars. Big reddish purple ugly things with really loooong tentacles. These creatures were intriguing, but you did not want to touch them, as they would sting you like mad!
One of the warnings Dad gave to us was to stay off the cliffs and out of the caves, as they could collapse easily and bury us alive. This was a warning we heeded for about ½ a day, then up the cliffs, and into the caves we would go. These caves were not really big, as they were dug by other kids in the sandy loam the cliffs were made of. The glacial till that was deposited here to make the Islands, was a conglomerate of sandy loam and clay, intermixed with gravel. Great for digging into. The clay was the stabilizer , and when it was wet, it was concrete!! So we would mine these clay deposits and stucco the walls of the caves with the clay! (now mind you these “caves” were only in about 4 feet) We used clam shells for dishes and beach wood for “furniture” What Fun!
As I grew and we moved around the Pacific, I still remember the magic of living there in Penn Cove. We were brought back here in 1961 and my parents never left. They ended up retiring here, and that was the first time our family had ROOTS!
When I was in High School, the first day of summer meant that I got to help my friends’ Dad out with the haying. I would walk up to their farm, and help get the hay onto truck. It was our job to drag it off the shoulders of the guys who were hoisting it up to the truck, and hand it off to the guys who were up on top of the stack. I would get hay scratches all over my arms and legs, but I loved it.
On the walk through the fields the meadowlark would be sitting on a fence singing his little heart out. The rabbits would be scurrying away, babies bouncing along behind them. It was magical! A steady breeze blowing in from the sound cooled us down, and dried the sweat into salty bands around our necks.
Today As I was driving to the bank, The same feelings came back to me, the sky was blue, the breeze was warm, the tide was low, the hay bales were in the fields, and the forests were dark green.
I thought back to those wonderful days over 40 years ago and wondered if that innocent young girl ever knew that she would grow into the woman that I became. I know that I envisioned things a lot differently than they turned out.
Last night I lay there in bed listening to the fog horns down on the Sound, and the deep Low Mourn of the freighters trying to feel their way through the narrows. I was looking up into clear skies, so knew that the fog that had formed was the cause of the really hot day we had yesterday. The cool water and the warm air causes fog to form on the water. It can be quite thick, and take all day to burn off.
I drove back to Coupeville by way of West Beach Road, and there off the beach was the low bank of fog, still laying there, making the people walking on the beach look very ephemeral.
I wanted to get out and walk the edge of the low water, but I had the wrong shoes on and would sink up to my ankles. It was with regret that I pulled away and left my day dreaming to another day.
No comments:
Post a Comment