Rialto Beach, Olympic National Park
In the morning, fog surrounds us, cloudy like walking in cotton. The air chills me. Down to my bones. Along the rocky beach, we find perfect circular stones. Gray, red, green and white eggs. Designed by a variety of ocean artists like the tides, waves, and earth. We pick up a wishing rock, circumfrenced by a delicate white stripe. I wonder what the wish should be? Too many to choose from. Too many things out of my control in this world. So I wish for sunshine. Let's see what nature can do for us.
Upon the shore, we find long streams of kelp adorned with huge bulbs. We drag them along the beach, leaving our mark in the sections of sand. The sea leaves foam behind, silhouetting the waves gone by. It floats in the breeze, soft and fluffy. Driftwood: our next treasure, ocean-carved creations. Staffs, whales, mega-shark teeth, all perfectly smooth. Tree graveyards with roots stretching, reaching high above our heads. A sadness is the stillness and loss of such great giants.
The beach turns from stone to dark sand as we approach the hole in the rock. Stacks shrouded in the morning with mist and fog now clear and vibrant in the afternoon sun. Did I say sun? Wishing rocks rule! Upon these rocks that jet up and out of the water, one or two pines stand proudly, lifting their heads toward the heavens. Tide pool treasures. Orange and purple sea star beds. Rainbow sea anemones. Low tide allows us to hike up a cliff out beyond pools. Waves burst, crashing onto our perfect climbing rock. I dig in to the Cheez-it bag (now printed with ABCs!) I pull out the letters to spell S-E-A. A gift from the Neptune? Posiedon? Mother nature?
Hike back down as a higher tide rolls in. Pass the sea stars, anemones, and through the hole in the rock. Rest against a huge fallen log, a drift for days in the ocean, now lodged safely on our beach. The rays of the sun are strong. It warms me through my skin, muscle, bone. Together, we rest, and dream of wishes and waves and wonder.