The Olympic Peninsula has a rich native heritage.
Surrounded by small villages named Sekiu, Pysht, Kalaloch and Sequim, its history predates our culture—and, the land, European exploration.
Within these old-growth forests of the Olympic Range, much is the same as it was, centuries before, as the native tribes walked these lands. The impenetrable growth of these woods, and the Olympics’ separation from the mainland by the Puget Sound has created a sanctuary—a rich environment, untouched by time, preserved to the present.
Bees and flies buzz from one to the next, struggling against a strong, cool breeze.
Summer is short on the mountaintop.
And sunshine, a rare delight.
From a narrow winding trail on Hurricane Ridge, glimpses of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and beyond that, Canada--in shades of blues, haze upon a distant land.
Appropriately, the only native thistle to the Northwest, Indian Thistle.
With fuzzy buds and nodding heads.
And many, many bees.