Shadows and clouds...

We roamed the hills today, exploring the wheat country that surrounds Walla Walla. It's beautiful here, anytime. But today, the winds were bringing constant change above us: black storm clouds, rain, and occasionally, a glimpse of blue sky.

Winter is being chased out of the valley, storm by storm. The snow that blanketed the Blue Mountains on Thursday was refreshed on Friday and Saturday, but with today's warmer temperatures, the snow is starting to melt.



Spring will be quick, then summer will arrive, with brilliant blue skies and hills of green and gold as the new wheat ripens.



We stopped early today, with a hundred and thirty-two new cache finds under our belt. That called for a tasty beverage and pizza, which we found at The Stone Hut. Relaxing and talking about our time here was the perfect way to end the day.

Back roads in a favorite place...

A drive through the hills, with snow. Discovering new roads, and new views... and a new barn to photograph. Muddy roads and geocaches, then wine tasting and a new-to-us restaurant for a late dinner. A good day.

Patterns...

We roamed the back roads around Walla Walla on a mostly gray day... it rained and snowed and hailed, and every time I got out, I tracked gobs of mud and gravel into the Pilot. But late in the morning, the weather lifted for a time, and gave glimpses of blue and fleecy clouds. I was drawn to the contrasting patterns of the day... rounded hills of winter wheat, green under last year's stubble, highlighting the paths of tractors. The straight grooves of newly graded gravel roads. And those beautiful clouds.

Lone trees and eagles...

We're heading for a few days in Walla Walla, but took a detour on the way. To drive the fishermen's paths up the Snake River, toward Ice Harbor Dam. When we lived here, we always took visitors to the dam to watch tugs and barges go up-river through the locks, and watch salmon climb the fish ladder.

I stopped to photograph a beautiful lone tree, with bare branches dark against the grey sky. When I stopped to frame my shot, a white head poked up. An eagle, not very happy that I was just 40 feet away from its nest.

It took flight, and it soared.

It's time...

Time to admit that winter is past... even though some days start in the upper 20's and take their own sweet time making it to 50 degrees.

Time to start weeding the flower beds, and make a list of the plants to add this year.

Time to pull out the trail maps, and think seriously about getting out there... back in the woods and the peaks (although I'm satisfied with hills these days)... it's time to get back into shape.

But best of all, it's time to open up the cabin, and get ready to enjoy the season. We'll fill up the wood box, make up the beds with fresh linens, stock the pantry, sweep off the deck. Comfy Adirondack chairs full of comfy blankets, a stack of books, a good bottle of wine... ready to spend the evenings outside under the stars.

Places with history...

We went back to the lighthouse point for a second try at a cache hidden deep in the ivy, and today we found it. And I stuck my hand into a nasty pile of blackberry thorns. Ouch. DW headed straight back to the Pilot, but I lingered to take some photos of the keeper's cottage, painted bright white with dark green trim, and checked out the huge bronze bell that's in the little house that was built just for it, back when the lighthouse was first built.

On December 12, 1887, two years before Washington became a state, a fixed white light lantern was placed on a post on Point Brown.

The first lighthouse was built in 1901, along with a keeper's cottage. The lighthouse stood on wood pilings off shore; at low tide you could walk to the lighthouse. At high tide, the light had to be accessed by row boat.

For thirty years, Oscar Brown (and his wife, Annie) lived at the Point and took care of the light. Every evening at sundown, Brown lit the lamp in the attic, and at sunrise he put it out.

When the bell rang all night long due to fog, he had to rewind the mechanism every 45 minutes. And if the bell wasn't working, he and Annie rang the bell the hard way: she timed the interval, and he struck the bell with a sledgehammer. 

When the station closed in 1964, the area became a public park. Lighthouse Park provides waterfront access to the public, for beachcombing and surf fishing, and the green space and gardens make this a nice place to hang out and have a picnic, and watch ships come in and out of the Port of Tacoma.

The lighthouse buildings and cottage are open to the public May-October on Saturdays, 1-4 pm. And if you're so inclined, you can rent the cottage for a week, and become an honorary lighthouse keeper.

A gift...

I woke with the sun... watching the room grow light along with the world outside, and feeling right with the world.



It was 60 degrees when we got home from caching. I changed to work clothes and spent a happy afternoon outside, clearing up the branches I pruned from the fruit trees last week, and taking stock of what still needs to be done.

Mentally I added tasks to the checklist: Prune the butterfly bush. Cut back the snowberry, and the three lilac bushes, so DW can mow the grass paths in between them. Deadhead the lace-cap hydrangea (the new leaves are already growing). Cut the lemon balm to the ground. Get the frames ready for the peonies; they'll be pushing through the dirt any day now. In a few weeks, I need to cut the ferns to the ground, to make room for the new growth. And my most pressing task: pulling weeds.

The past few weeks have been frustrating, wanting to do everything I love, but not finding enough time. Today was a gift: perfect weather to be outside in this place I love.

Hot pink...

Buds just beginning to break, along the waterfront in Kingston.

An away weekend...

We escaped for the weekend for wine tasting, photography, and a concert. It was fun to introduce our friends to a couple of our favorite wineries, and they introduced us to the joys of a tribute band concert.

Isn't this just the most perfect weathervane for a winery?

Friendship...

The Friendship block is one of my favorite patterns, and this small quilt came together at a retreat the end of January, with my friends from my Tuesday sewing group. The star blocks are about 5 inches square, and the finished quilt is about 20 x 26 inches. It's made completely from scraps left over from other projects, and every block is different.

I love how it turned out, made in Civil War fabric colors, in a pattern that dates back to the mid-1800s. That's my idea of the perfect quilt: one that has its roots in both color and pattern.

One berry...

I skipped a day with my quilting ladies, to spend time in the orchard. Every time I tried to prune trees earlier this year, it would snow. Or rain. Mostly, it rained. And didn't stop.

So when the forecast claimed two sunny days in a row, it was too good to resist. So after our morning geocache, I headed out in my grubby Nike sweatshirt and my old jeans, armed with the pole pruner. It's getting harder to use as I get older, but I still enjoy it. Being able to prune a branch way over my head while standing on the ground... can't beat that.



There still isn't much at home to photograph, but I did find this lone berry, bright against the blue sky. It completely made my day.

In hiding...

It's a common theme so far this month... snow in the foothills, cold in the valley, and no mountain in sight. This morning we got on the road early and headed south for a walk on a rail trail. The sun was coming up strong and light, and the snow in the low foothills was shining. I could post this photograph on a wall and draw in the outline of Mount Rainier. It's there, but you'll have to take my word for it.

This plateau, nestled at the foot of The Mountain, is one of my favorite places (as I've said before). From one side to the other, it's full of green pastures for dairy cows and horses, old farmhouses and barns, and lots of funny bumpy hills that rise straight up from the plateau floor. It's also home to a few favorite restaurants and bars. And it's one of my favorite areas to roam with my camera.

I could live there... if I could just move it to a different county. Maybe a different state.

Hanging at the docks...

We've been spending time on the waterfront in Tacoma lately, a quiet place to find our daily geocache, and it's surprisingly interesting. Last week we saw four 300+ foot high cranes arrive by ship. Today, one of them is already installed on its new pier. We found a tiny hidden park, just a strip of walkway leading from road to waterway, with a tiny platform that faced south. With buildings right next door, we wondered about the placement. But when we walked down to the water's edge, I understood. The platform was much older than the structure next door; in years past, it would have had a bird's eye view of Mt. Rainier. The mountain was hiding today, but it was still a good view.

Drafting...

It is a constant surprise, how much I enjoy drafting quilt blocks. I love fabric, and color, and choosing the perfect combination to make a quilt. Quilts are art.

But I also love the mechanics of quilt making. Finding a quilt I like, then figuring out exactly how to make it :: drafting the pattern, sketching it out, ordering the steps, and calculating how much fabric I'll need. It's the technical writer in me, I think. Writing a quilt pattern isn't any different than writing a service manual... it's just shorter.