…info about the music
Otherworldly music for this somewhat otherworldly place.
As is obvious at this point to anyone who sees my [professional-face-of-Alex] website and reads this [definitely not professional] blog, I’m a big believer in the idea that no matter how much work is waiting to be done, taking some time and having a life is really, really important. As I see it, artists are vessels who constantly pour out impressions and expressions. We have to make sure that we fill ourselves up again, otherwise we may be left with little to say.
Yesterday Charles and I took our personal vessels onto a larger vessel, and went on a little excursion over to the island that waves back when we gaze across the water to the east: Lopez, a beautiful and rural member of the San Juans. We grabbed the ferry (squint and you’ll see it beyond the picnic table) and, as a New York tourist might enjoy the Circle Line around Manhattan, we had great fun on a slow ride as the boat stopped at Orcas and Shaw islands prior to making its Lopez landing. Camera in one hand and map in the other, I tracked our passage carefully, trying to memorize as much of these waters as I’m able since at some point soon we’ll be in our own boat making this trip. While navigational charts are essential, being able to look up and simply know which of the hundreds of islands, atolls and big jagged boat-threatening rocks I’m looking at makes getting around a lot easier. And less damaging to hulls and helms-person egos!
Among the lovely places we walked around was the Spencer Spit, pictured above and here, at the very tip of it, looking straight into the rock wall of Frost Island.
And at the other end of the spit, I looked up and saw this magnificent creature:
He/she (sorry folks, I’m still not good with this part) deserves a far better photo opp than this, but I’m completely enchanted by being surrounded by so many bald eagles and I couldn’t resist.
Later in the day we saw an immature bald eagle– still all mottled brown, no white head and tail feathers yet– eating something on the side of the road (downed bicyclist? naw, too difficult to swallow the helmet) and as large as a full grown wild turkey. And moments later, we saw a full grown wild turkey when we stopped to gaze at a house we had considered buying last year that we had seen on the internet. As we commented on the potential for wood rot and other problems in this old-but-really-charming structure, the huge bird landed right in front of us on the balcony railing. Charles and I proclaimed “it’s a sign!”. A sign of what, we had no idea, but decided that maybe the house… would have been a turkey.