One particular harbor

Because I am interested in (you might even say “addicted to”), the Olympic Peninsula and the happenings there, I often read the online version of the local newspaper, the Peninsula Daily News. Just to keep a finger on what’s happening out that way, to check the real estate market for what I hope may someday be my country estate, things like that.

An article in a recent edition caught my eye. The writer brought up the idea of specific places that have special meaning, locations to which personal attachments are formed, for whatever reason. He went on to describe a mountain near Phoenix, which is not the point, but I was struck by how automatically I grasped his premise.

Some wild places are more special than others, at least on an individual level. What is more, it is surprising how rarely it is that these are places that have universal appeal, like a National Park or some other officially designated locale. More likely, these meaningful spots are out-of-the-way and nondescript, and although they may have a great view or some other feature in common with more well-known places, they will usually be overlooked by others who pass through.

I have several of these: that certain bend in the road on West Camino Cielo that overlooks Santa Barbara and the Channel Islands, the south slope of Mount Scio with views of Memorial University, Signal Hill and the old city of St. John’s. (Photo above) Then there’s that little cove, that “one particular harbor,” on Sucia Island in the San Juans, where, on a cold winter’s night, I once built a sweat lodge on the beach – and will do so again, I swear.

As we move through nature, nature will inevitably move through us.