After the storm

We recently had a whopper of a gale.  A long night,
then an even longer dark day of sideways rain and rattle-the-rafters wind.

The lull that followed meant only one thing - time for beachcombing - so four-paws and I

headed out to see what we could find.  I wasn't entirely sure there'd even be a shore left.

Predictions had been ominous but living as we do on a tiny rock out in the Pacific Ocean

 we know variables can be extreme island to island.  I needed to see firsthand how our
favorite spot had fared.

Thankfully, it was not so bad really.

Bull kelp was in abundance, having woven itself down the beach in dramatic ropes.  A few

boulders that support the edge of the two lane road had been displaced and
one or two megalithic tree stumps (from Canada perhaps?) had been dredged up & tossed ashore
like toothpicks.

The donations from the sea were plentiful.

I left this red one in place.  Figured a heart rock was better doing its good business under

a big sky, near a Big Puddle, than home with me in my pocket or on my windowsill.

This particular beach is in somewhat protected waters, with San Juan Island directly to 

the east & San Juan Channel in between, so it isn't like beaches that 

face the open ocean where lots of human trash prevails

(I'll pay you five dollars if you can even find a piece of sea glass on this stretch),

but it does hold a motherlode of natural detritus ...

driftwood

stones

shells

some feathers

and lots of seaweed ... especially during storm season.

And there was our "garbage" to collect and treasure.  Hadn't seen this around

for a whole year - a reddish seaweed that makes lovely rose-colored marks when wrapped in 

cloth (especially silk) if one is game to judiciously watch temperatures in the dyepot.

Worth the whole walk, was that.

:::

Have you ever heard of the British artist, Jo Atherton?

She weaves tapestries with the flotsam from her beaches & other coasts of the world

and tells some very interesting stories ...

Have a look.