An Extraordinary Moment
Yesterday evening I experienced something that transcended almost anything I'd done or seen in my lifetime, prior to now. Now, during the worst domestic crisis our nation has faced in a century. Matters of life and death have tilted sharply in the direction of death. The Grim Reaper is reaping an enormous harvest in our nation and world and shows no signs of fatigue.
We might well fear that he will have a second wind, at our expense, before long.
I'd been planning on an evening of dining at home, alone, then watching Netflix. One of my favorite series, Madam Secretary (no spoilers here) had just begun a new season, commercial-free. So I watched the show, and happened to look up when it ended, and out the window.
I live in a 4th floor apartment that faces due west, and have sunset vistas through the usual tall pine trees hereabouts every clear evening, year round. And clear evenings in these changing climes are becoming more and more frequent (suggestion for a new Dylan song: The Climes the are a Changing, to go with the still current old one referencing the times. Just sayin').
So, I'd just finished dinner, and was settling down for a nice buttery glass of Chardonnay and a pipe or two, when I glanced up and saw what looked like a spectacular sunset developing over Puget Sound.
I knew the perfect place to see it (I had forgotten just how perfect, it had been years since I'd been there): the lighthouse beach park in the town of Mukilteo.
But it was a half hour trip, start to finish, and it was already after 8:00 o'clock, and I would have to break a law or two to get there.
There was another factor at play as well: a weather front was moving in from the Pacific, and clouds were covering more and more of the sky. The window of opportunity was shrinking, rapidly.
Another factor was that Mukilteo hosted a ferry to and from Whidbey Island. A beautiful ferry ride to a beautiful island. So there was the danger of traffic holding me up, on this small two lane road down a miles-long hillside to the water.
But my luck was holding. Not much ferry traffic at this hour. The line of cars coming towards me told me that a ferry had just docked. And, miraculously, as I rounded the final curve opening up to the ferry terminal straight ahead, Puget Sound beyond, and Whidbey Island a mile or so beyond that, there it was:
The sun was just getting ready for a dramatic setting in a dramatic setting, and it shone brilliantly, looming clouds providing splashes of color.
I have to say, that this small port town of Mukilteo (named for the local Indian tribe) is in a setting that would be difficult, if not impossible, to match for beauty anywhere in our world.
The ferry was just getting ready to load, but the beach park, with it's 19th Century lighthouse, chapel and lightkeeper's cottage, small wooden pier, and numerous picnic tables, benches, and, of course, beach areas.
I had feared crowds, but they were minimal. A few families, a diverse group of visitors like myself, and a fair number of teenagers, showing excellent taste in their choice of an evening's outing.
I found a parking space immediately: directly in front of the lighthouse, with the developing sunset beyond.
But I wanted to walk a little, first. Scope out the best spot for a vista and get a shot or two with my camera.
The ferry departed, with a honk or two in it's fog horn (reminding me of Van Morrison's great song Into the Mystic).
Another ferry was approaching from the opposite shore on Whidbey Island, and the sun was about to go down in a brilliant burst of glory.
The pier was occupied by a dozen or so teenagers, gazing at the horizon in chat-worthy anticipation. And for me, they were a perfect and integral part of the tableau, their dark profiles standing with the sun setting beyond.
The main event came, at last, and I cannot remember a sunset to compare, in my lifetime, and I'd seen several (hah hah).
And to think I'd come here to Mukilteo on a whim. A virtual whim. A sudden need for adventure. Get out of the house. Find some inspiration, perhaps, for the book I'm working on.
Ciao for now,
E.C.
We might well fear that he will have a second wind, at our expense, before long.
I'd been planning on an evening of dining at home, alone, then watching Netflix. One of my favorite series, Madam Secretary (no spoilers here) had just begun a new season, commercial-free. So I watched the show, and happened to look up when it ended, and out the window. I live in a 4th floor apartment that faces due west, and have sunset vistas through the usual tall pine trees hereabouts every clear evening, year round. And clear evenings in these changing climes are becoming more and more frequent (suggestion for a new Dylan song: The Climes the are a Changing, to go with the still current old one referencing the times. Just sayin').
So, I'd just finished dinner, and was settling down for a nice buttery glass of Chardonnay and a pipe or two, when I glanced up and saw what looked like a spectacular sunset developing over Puget Sound.
I knew the perfect place to see it (I had forgotten just how perfect, it had been years since I'd been there): the lighthouse beach park in the town of Mukilteo.
But it was a half hour trip, start to finish, and it was already after 8:00 o'clock, and I would have to break a law or two to get there.
There was another factor at play as well: a weather front was moving in from the Pacific, and clouds were covering more and more of the sky. The window of opportunity was shrinking, rapidly.
Another factor was that Mukilteo hosted a ferry to and from Whidbey Island. A beautiful ferry ride to a beautiful island. So there was the danger of traffic holding me up, on this small two lane road down a miles-long hillside to the water.
But my luck was holding. Not much ferry traffic at this hour. The line of cars coming towards me told me that a ferry had just docked. And, miraculously, as I rounded the final curve opening up to the ferry terminal straight ahead, Puget Sound beyond, and Whidbey Island a mile or so beyond that, there it was:
The sun was just getting ready for a dramatic setting in a dramatic setting, and it shone brilliantly, looming clouds providing splashes of color.
I have to say, that this small port town of Mukilteo (named for the local Indian tribe) is in a setting that would be difficult, if not impossible, to match for beauty anywhere in our world.
The ferry was just getting ready to load, but the beach park, with it's 19th Century lighthouse, chapel and lightkeeper's cottage, small wooden pier, and numerous picnic tables, benches, and, of course, beach areas.
I had feared crowds, but they were minimal. A few families, a diverse group of visitors like myself, and a fair number of teenagers, showing excellent taste in their choice of an evening's outing.
I found a parking space immediately: directly in front of the lighthouse, with the developing sunset beyond.
But I wanted to walk a little, first. Scope out the best spot for a vista and get a shot or two with my camera.
The ferry departed, with a honk or two in it's fog horn (reminding me of Van Morrison's great song Into the Mystic).
The pier was occupied by a dozen or so teenagers, gazing at the horizon in chat-worthy anticipation. And for me, they were a perfect and integral part of the tableau, their dark profiles standing with the sun setting beyond.
The main event came, at last, and I cannot remember a sunset to compare, in my lifetime, and I'd seen several (hah hah).
And to think I'd come here to Mukilteo on a whim. A virtual whim. A sudden need for adventure. Get out of the house. Find some inspiration, perhaps, for the book I'm working on.
Ciao for now,
E.C.
Comments
Post a Comment