Held here in tide pools, covered by only inches of clear ocean water, until the surf returns and they are, once again, hidden from view.
Waiting for its reviving freshness, safe within rocky walls.
The rugged shoreline of the Olympic Peninsula, with its towering sea stacks and tumbling sea stones scattered across broad sand and pebble beaches is 73 miles of protected wilderness. In many cases, reached only by hiking a narrow trail weaving its way through miles of dense evergreen woods, the shores are rimmed by weathered silver beach logs, piled high, just beyond the water’s high mark.
Here, the exposed tidal pools hold treasure.
With each wave’s passing, the basins emerge.
Then, a slippery path from stone to stone, upon piles of lifeless seaweed.
Until the last foamy finger of cool water slips into gently rippled sand.
This is low tide. And we have been waiting.
At Clallum Bay on the northern shore, we walked out to Slip Point, its large pitted rocks, jutting from piles of smooth, brown sea stones.
The deepest blue of the ocean, bright, beyond a shadowed shore.
We found carved basins and hidden pockets beneath the rocks, filled with mussels and barnacles—
and more.
Hermit crabs battled furiously in arm-to-arm combat, hurriedly retreating as my shadow darkened their pool. Tiny blue feet, barely betraying their presence here.
Their shelter, a small cast-off shell.
A Purple Sea Urchin and well-camouflaged Sculpin rested, motionless, in the next.
And, peeking from beneath the shadow of a large rock, bright orange arms!
Further west at Ruby Beach, long, sloping sands surround sea stacks, remnants of the rocky headlands, eroded by the strong ocean waves. At low tide, the sides of these small islands are exposed.
Sea stars and closed anemone cover the surface, waiting for the water's return.
In a shallow sandy pool at my feet, open tentacles.
Translucent fingers feed.
An entire wall of the wave beaten rock, encrusted by mussels and barnacles, again.
Their white mozaic shells against blue, striking in the late afternoon sun.
Fed by the action of the water as it surges past.
In this place, seemingly vacant, long shores without life, I have found it.
In colors a vivid contrast to the muted sands and sea.
Waiting for the tide to come in.
all photos click to enlarge
participating in Camera Critters
24 comments:
There is nothing to say, except "Wow! I wanna go there."
This place is a "must see" for anyone seeking pristine wilderness.
Of course, if everyone goes there, that may change.
However, those we encountered were respectful of the rules and responsible hikers.
Not a beach for pails and shovels and boomboxes and the like.
The pictures don't do it justice!
What a wonderful series this has been. Your lovely pictures and poetic narrative make us feel as if we were there. Thanks
Hi - I enjoyed looking through your blog. You've got some fascinating stuff in here and some beautiful places.
I'm really enjoying reading your blog. You are bringing back memories for me of my visits there.
That's my idea of a day at the beach. I'd guess Frost's too. Don't know about Whitman. Was he really a wildlife warrior, do you think?
You have captured the feeling of the wildness of this area Nina. This is almost, ALMOST, as good as going there.
Well written post and the amazing pictures make it even better
I could hear the birds chattering,smell the crisp sea air,and anticipate what the next tide pool will have --as I scrolled down your great post. WELL DONE !!!
Such beautiful photos--I am ready to head for the beach! Such a treasure trove of sealife and so peaceful--I am glad there are still places like this that are protected and kept so pristine.
I always feel like I've just taken a mini vacation when I come to your blog. Thank you once again.
Glad I visited your blog today to see the lovely photos of one of my favorite places. I liked the photos earlier of Cape Flannery--we camped on the Indian reservation there because there were no official campgrounds. Great place! Joan
Great photos. I feel as if I am on that shoreline.
I'm mesmerized by your photos and words this week. You have taken me from desert to ocean with this post. I feel refreshed with all that blue! And who knew there were purple sea urchins!
I'm glad you are not tiring of these photos--I'm afraid I may have reached saturation level, but still have so much to share.
Olympic is such a diverse place, its hard to relay the impressions in just a couple posts.
I still have hiking the Hoh Rainforest and canoeing on Lake Quinault.
Need a break??
If *you* need a break, so be it, but as for me... bring it on! Your photos and narrative are wonderful, and I'm enjoying every bit of it.
Isabelle and Lorelei went into transports of delight when they saw these photos.
They think you are the luckiest chick in the world.
Susan--give them a few more years to grow into some good hiking legs and take them there.
This place defies description.
I cannot believe this place and your photos of it. Although I've traveled, there is still SOOOOO much I have to see. I love the green anemone, such BEAUTY in Nature. The way she recreates herself over and over in infinite form is astounding.
Gorgeous shots and life forms- I wanted to be there..sk
Wow! What stunning pictures! Wow!!
Absolutely gorgeous set of images.
Wow...all the things people don't usually think about being at the beach
What a beautiful photo essay!
Well done.
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