The Island that survived the Pig War

The San Juan Islands are my happiest place. Full of loving parents, friends, and the great and wild outdoors.Time there always means sunsets, bald eagles, fresh crab meat filling the fridge, and bad boat names. It also means:

hiking in the mossy outdoors:

Scouting for whales:

Clamming:

(Our neighbor's perfectly manicured wood pile; you stay off this lawn, 2010)

Our time at Roche Harbor was complete because it was the perfect satisfying mix of details. It was the sounds of breakfast in the morning, tromping around outside all day, runs around the island at sunset, wonderful meals with too much cheese, and cozying up to talk around the fireplace (or was it the wet bar?) after the kids were in bed.

(I made this for dinner)

I found that I was almost giddy having an opportunity to share my childhood imaginations with other children.

(Jadyn & Betty, two princesses ready for the ball, 2010)

It was like they understood the magnitude of catching a 2ft sandshark, or falling off the dock into a pool of jellyfish. Catching a scary crab and then killing it for dinner was as horrific as I remembered, and finding bugs in the woodpile downstairs just as disgusting.

(I imagined that this dock lamp was lighting up the whole sky, 2010)

I remember my dad reading “A Light in the Attic” by S. Silverstein and

laughing until I cried, and mom making homemade blackberry cobbler out of the buckets of sun-warmed berries we had just picked on the west hills. I remember watching my uncle Kevin making homemade clam chowder (from clams we messily dug up) for the first time and wondering who in heavens name thought up that mess!

When you’re a child in the San Juan Islands, you expect adventures at every turn and in every tidepool. And it is still true that exploration is at it’s best with good company. More nourishing than the scenic view itself is discovering it with someone; more satisfying than a glass of wine is pouring two to share.

I heard once that landscape has its own melody. If you look at the line of the horizon, or the tree line, it plays a music of its own. I put sheet music over a picture I took of Roche Harbor's view of Henry Island yesterday: Here's the melody:

Roche

(This post was written 4 days ago in an antiquated land with no internet service...let me explain).

Roche.
It’s not a French pastry, or a beetle. It’s not a brand of candle, or a little-known poet.

(This poster of Roche Harbor hangs in my family's house)

(Sunset last night on our dock, 2010)

Roche.

Roche Harbor is where real magic happens; the kind of magic where rosy children are transported into another world, become blood brothers, forage for food, get stranded at sea while fishing, fall madly in love, and protect their families.

(Roche from the back deck, 2010)

Roche Harbor is heaven on an island and a place you beg God to let you get stranded.
Just a nook on the north end of the largest of the San Juan Islands (aptly named San Juan Island), it is just 9 miles from where the green and white Washington State Ferry drops you off, conveniently at the doorstep of the best ice cream shop in Friday Harbor. From Seattle, this is a beautiful 1 ½ hour drive through farmlands backed by Hellenic god- inhabited mountains.

(And more of the back deck view at sunset, 2010)

You board the Anacortes ferry and wind through a few of the thousands of islands that comprise the San Juans. You find that every moment on the water takes you further from life’s daily grind and further into this magical land where sunsets are seen from the comfort of a back porch and you remember what it was like to want to get covered in mud.

(Nothing like pilings, heavy rope, and a bit of time, 2010)

I am not sure if I become more of a child here, or old to the point of ageless. All I know is that this is my favorite place in the whole world.

(A photo taken the weekend I got to the The Non-Scotsman, Roche Harbor, 2007)

I am here for 4 days with the Non-Scotsman and many, many friends. We plan to do little besides become better wives & husbands & friends by way of immensely enjoying each other and life.