Whidbey Walking

Wetlands

In spite of its reputation for having a less than ideal climate because of the rain, the Pacific Northwest will often have beautiful weather while the rest of the country is sweltering, like now, or mild weather while everyone else is shoveling snow.   When the sun does shine here, it is possibly one of the most beautiful places on the planet.  This has been particularly appreciated lately as I have been walking every day and it has helped me sustain a consistency that is not necessarily my strong point (as witnessed by these blog posts). 

country roads

Walking is surely the ultimate exercise – totally adaptable, can be done anywhere, all you need is a pair of shoes and you don’t even need those if you’re at the beach.  I love that it can be so many things – exercise, meditation, socializing, brainstorming or head clearing.  Mine is an anchor that keeps me focused each day and also provides space for contemplation and the practice of what a friend once called the “highest form of prayer”- gratitude.

One of the main things that strikes me as I set off down our laneway is the miracle of being safe.  To be able to walk alone, a middle aged woman, down a quiet (depending on ferry traffic) country road and feel physically safe is a gift that so many people in the world don’t have.   That thought mixes with hundreds of others; some I try to let pass by, others help me get caught up in the magic of eagles and hawks circling overhead, the wetlands teeming with life and birdsong, the occasional deer stepping out of the woods and friendly locals Islanders going about their day.  

The best little golf course on Whidbey

Part of my walking route takes me past a little par 3 golf course nestled among dozens of rhododendron bushes and towering Douglas firs.  I’m not much of a golfer – seven holes is about my limit before I get bored, but Island Greens has a special feel to it.  Probably not in the eyes of a serious golfer, but it has funky little tee-off points from the backs of old trucks and an honour system for paying and a cat called Sweet Boy who leaves treats around the course to encourage people to come and play at what is now the only public golf course on the south end after the closure of the only 18 hole course on South Whidbey.  

Whidbey golf

I love that quiet echo-y sound that drifts across a golf course on a sunny day – the whack of a ball, the murmur of voices; groans, laughter, encouragement - the sound of happiness and being in the moment.  

Island laneway

And I stay in my own moment, walking, contemplating the joy of being not only safe, but of being able to walk.  And then another bit of magic to be grateful for – being able to sit down every morning at my little table in my little apartment in one tiny corner of the world, with my favourite cup of tea of the day (the first one) and be able to turn on a computer and be in touch, instantly, with the whole world.    

Two Island / Two Continent Connections

My new "Container Massage Room"

My promise to myself for getting my website done was to have a pedicure.  This is an occasional ritual for me, one I discovered after years of ignoring my feet because they were ugly and finally realizing that it’s precisely because they’re ugly (they really are) that one should get pedicures, specially considering that if my clients open their eyes they look straight at my feet through the face cradle of my massage table. 

I went alone to the place I usually go with a girlfriend but she was away.   I sat in my car and finished the story I was reading on the ferry, picked up a latte – that’s part of the ritual - then strolled into the salon.  It was humming with activity and after picking out a colour (“ Jewel of India”) I was taken aback by the sight of a little girl in the chair next to mine, all thick blond hair and fashionable outfit and a bored look on her face – she can’t have been more than 8 years old.  Her mother was looking bored too, but engrossed in a magazine, ignoring both her daughter and the young Vietnamese woman ministering to her feet.

I had a moment of hesitation, wondering about this, thinking there’s some blog material there – a rant about what the world’s coming to when 8 year old girls are bored with getting a $25 pedicure while the south American Indians I was just reading about in my book were spending every day wondering how to procure their next meal.

The rant fades after I hear the middle-aged woman on my other side say something to the woman giving her a French pedicure.  She says something again and I have to ask where her accent is from.  She says “Australia” then “Sydney” and I tell her I’m from Hobart.  

All rants about spoiled eight year old girls go out the window as I delve into this amazing but familiar connection between Tasmania and surrounds and Whidbey Island and surrounds. A middle-aged woman (like me) went travelling when young (like me) met her husband in the US (like me) her husband is a Vietnam Veteran (same) she has a daughter named Erin (me too).  She has travelled the world as a flight attendant (a much more sensible and affordable way than my way!)  and now lives in Mukilteo across the water from Whidbey.   We exchange numbers so we can make plans to get together with our husbands.

And I think of the time I spent hesitating at Starbucks, sitting in the car finishing up one story, doing one more thing so I missed that ferry but made that one.  All so I end up meeting up with one more connection between my two island lives.

Thanks for listening…

Rosie

For information regarding pedicures and how they became so mainstream, read this article from the LA Times

 - A mix of luck, polish

Vietnamese dominance of the manicure trade started with the help of a U.S. star.

May 05, 2008|My-Thuan Tran | Times Staff Writer

Back on Whidbey Island

We made our way back to Whidbey Island from Tasmania via Indiana, New York City and Camden, Maine.  It’s so nice to be back on my own familiar bit of America – the rest all feels pretty foreign but this island is my other “home”.  Even the rain feels familiar, although it would be a lot less thrilling if I’d been living with it for the past 9 months and wasn’t anticipating the arrival of summer after July 4^th as is so often the case in the Pacific Northwest.

Coyote Lake

I was so happy to see my pig Isabel and she was happy to see me and the leftover gingerbread that I brought her from our Christmas in Tasmania.  When we lived on Whidbey we always had a tradition of building a very big, imperfect gingerbread house that the family all decorated with abandon, then ate for a while before giving the leftovers to Izzy after the holidays were over.  

There was a lot of gingerbread last year, and  after a while we started to suspect that the possum that occasionally comes in through the cat door had been chowing down on it which is a good excuse to throw it away, but not nearly as satisfying as feeding it to an appreciative pig.  Although the wallabies and pademelons that spend every night in our yard, mowing the lawn (much to my husband’s delight) would happily eat it, it’s not good for them, so most of it ends up in the garbage.  But I always save a big bagful for Izzy so she knows we were thinking of her.  My kids all roll their eyes at this but I swear she knows!

Izzy outside our apartment

After weeks of being on the road I’m enjoying being at my own little apartment and settling in to my own tiny kitchen.   Apart from seeing Izzy and catching up with friends, my favourite activity is wandering the property on a sunny evening, wineglass in hand, marveling at how much the trees we planted have grown.  There is nothing like planting trees to give you a sense of time and place.  Or adding a few flowers to pots to make it feel like summer, even if it’s a short one.  Or eating Screaming Banshee bread dipped in oil and balsamic vinegar to remind you that you really are back on Whidbey.

 I also think that I like that overgrown, wild garden look for now and it’s not yet time to think about weeding.  Instead I make lists, and then anticipate one of the most exciting aspects of my return to the island.   There is a movie showing at the Clyde that, by some miracle, in spite of watching five whole movies on the flight over, I haven’t seen!  Not only that, it’s raining, which eliminates that summer dilemma: you want to go to the Clyde, but the movie starts during the shank of the evening when the sun is casting long shadows over the wildlife pond, which is almost impossible to tear yourself away from…but sunshine is forecast for tomorrow, so it's perfect!

Thanks for listening. 

(see www.islandtimetours.net.au or the Clyde Theater website for more information on why the Clyde is so special)