Walking The Refuge

We took the dogs and headed out to the Conboy Wildlife Refuge. It was cold, and sunny, and the contrast of the brilliant yellow-gold tamarack trees with their nearby neighbors, the lodgepole and ponderosa pines could not be more stark.

Once on the three-mile loop trail, we talked about things big and small as the dogs raced ahead, always coming back to check on us. From the viewing platform at the half-way point, it was obvious that fall was giving way to the coming winter, which in turn could only mean the eventual coming of spring and the appearance of new growth. New growth that is only made possible by the death and dropping away of this year’s growth.

Walking the refuge loop trail is always a reminder that life is a series of new beginnings, leading to eventual endings, only to come upon new beginnings once again. It is also a reminder of the need we have as human beings to find refuge from our personal storms with a select few sacred souls. Those who will walk with us as what has been drops away in order to make way for what can be.

The Muk

A space is just a space, until you make it something more.

When my sister and brother-in-law bought their last home, they bought it not because it was the place of their dreams, but because it was the only one they could agree on. Determined to make a decision, they invited me to go along as they drove from listing to listing to listing. It was a long day.

At the time, they were moving from the home where they had raised their daughters, and they weren’t exactly sure what the next chapter would bring. He however was sure he wanted a shop, and she was certain she wanted a home with some charm and a garden. Sometimes I rode with him, and sometimes with her. Like I said. It was a long day.

By the end of the afternoon, he had his eye on a so-so house with a shop on a very busy street, and she was starry-eyed about the adorable cottage with a secret garden that overlooked the lanes to the ferry. We’d also looked at a townhome in Mukilteo. It overlooked the Puget Sound, and while it had a killer view of Whidbey Island, It didn’t have a shop, and it didn’t have a secret garden. With no decision in sight and all in need of caffeine, we headed to Starbucks. Breaking the silence, I asked each of them a question. Could she live in the so-so house on the busy street with the shop? No, she could not. Could he live in the adorable cottage with the secret garden that overlooked the ferry lanes? No, he could not. Well then, I asked, could they live in the townhome overlooking the Puget Sound with the killer view of Whidbey Island, but without a shop or a secret garden?

They could, and, as it turned out, they did.

After fourteen years, they are moving out of the The Muk. Even though it wasn’t what they’d imagined, or even hoped for, they moved in and made it work. They made it into a lovely space with lovely furnishings.

As it turns out, it was so much more than that.

A few nights ago their daughters, sons-in-law, and a passel of grandkids showed up to say goodbye to the The Muk. Apparently it wasn’t a place one could simply leave without a proper farewell. Crowded onto a small balcony, stories of times at the Muk began to unfold, painting a picture of a shelter from storms, a place where all who came felt safe, seen, heard, and loved. The Muk was a refuge of healing, hope, and a place where the truth, no matter how hard, was spoken and heard, and freedom was found.

When they moved in it was just a space with a view.

When they moved in they made it into a lovely space with lovely furnishings.

But a space with a view, no matter how beautiful, and a carefully furnished place no matter how lovely, do not a refuge make. Only love and grace and faith and truth and laughter and family and friendship and courage and compassion and tradition and extravagant welcome can do that.

Farewell to the Muk. We are all better for having known you.

Safe Spaces

We all need safe spaces for courageous thinking. 

Let’s create them for each other.

The Viewing Platform

Whenever we walk our local wildlife refuge, a mandatory stop along the way is the viewing platform. Located at about the halfway point of a three-mile loop, from that vantage point we might catch a glimpse of one of the local elk herds, pairs of Sandhill Cranes, flocks of waterfowl, and on a clear day, a straight shot at Mt. Adams, known to Native Americans as Pahto.

The viewing platform is a spot to pause and take in a larger view than what is visible along the forest trail, and while we don’t always hit the wildlife spotting jackpot, the view is always worth the trip.

Time on that simple structure is a chance to gain perspective, and see one’s life as a small part in the bigger scheme of things. It is an opportunity to catch sight of something that takes our breath away and inspires us to imagine new possibilities. Or, on a foggy day, only hints at what might lay just beyond our sight. A few moments on the platform provide a brief respite to gather our strength, and it is a place to leave behind the old in order to make room for something new.

We all need a viewing platform from which to consider our small part in the bigger scheme of things. And from that place, we can remember where we’ve been, and set our sights on the trail ahead.

Conboy Wildlife Refuge, Thanksgiving morning, 2018

Walking The Refuge

We live near a beautiful wildlife refuge, and we walk it as often as we can.

A combination of oak, pine, and aspen forests, wetlands, and grassy prairies, it offers an ever-changing, always stunning vista as the seasons roll through, and provides habitat for creatures large, small, and everywhere in between.

Photo: Jean Gale

The refuge is a fusion of discovery and quiet familiarity. Discovery because it is always changing, and you never know what you might encounter around the next curve in the trail, or through your binoculars trained across the landscape. Quiet familiarity comes from the well known landmarks, sound of wind in the pines, and the always staggering view of Mt. Adams.

There is a three-mile loop trail that wanders along its edge, with a viewing platform at the midway point from which to catch a possible glimpse of some wildlife.

Walking the refuge is to visit a place of safety, sanctuary, retreat, and shelter.

Walking the refuge is to encounter a fusion of discovery and familiarity.

Walking the refuge is an opportunity to stand on a viewing platform and catch a glimpse of one’s life.

Where is there a refuge for you to walk?