Cape Alava-Sand Point Loop

Have you ever noticed that the ocean whispers in harmonious rhythm with the rush of rivers and the rustle of trees on the highest mountain peaks? A definite string of things, that initially seems separate but upon further inspection, the same. My solitary three day stay in our Northwestern corner of Washington delivered this continuous awareness, as I huffed up overland trails by rope and wandered amongst the clear cuts and high tide seaweed soaked beach decorated by trees sculpted by time and rocks marked by those that came many years before me along the nine mile Cape Alva to Sand Point loop, from Ozette.

I headed for the coast with the weather prediction crying for rain. Ocean wetness a given, the rain that did indeed eventually arrive, merely highlighted the experience. The trail began on boardwalk (caution-slippery when wet and some broken or rotting boards) and continued for just over three easy miles to the coast; thus lending itself to quiet contemplation and a steady beat to match my surroundings. Colorful mushrooms dotted the second generation forest, pungent with its perfume, alluding to the near arrival of fall. Tasty salal berries bulged larger than I have seen in years. They too, have blossomed from the bright light this season has so generously supplied.

I was fortunate to enjoy a balance of sun; a gift deeply revered when beaming through cloudy sky. To quote Mary Oliver, I “let the soft animal of my body love what it loves”. I told the ocean my secrets and it swallowed them whole with utmost care and cradled me in its timeless grandeur of past and present mixing with the tide. I sat and relished the massive body of water before me-lounging about in silky sand. Wispy clouds and golden twinkles intertwined upon its mysterious surface…still, the rhythm.

Many people came before me here; they left their carvings in the rock. Many people will come after I am gone. This journey lent a theme of oneness amongst all things from land to sea, earth to sky, human to nature and other human beings. Sometimes, we isolate ourselves from the scheme of things…sometimes we think we are separate. Sometimes we are. And sometimes, the tranquility of life reminds us in the words of Colin Ray that were shared with me by a beautiful friend: “I laugh, I love, I hope I try, I hurt, I need, I fear, I cry. And I know you do the same things too, So we’re really not that different, me and you”.

Namaste. May you find the pulse that connects the string of all things in our magnificent Northwest backyard!