Eventide at Kalaloch’s shore

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

The sun, once brilliant and dominating the sky, now recedes into the horizon, bringing a new day to the Orient.

The unpacific Pacific Ocean, churning furiously during the day, now rests, its heart beat in rhythm with the pull of the moon.

Chaucer wrote: Time and tide wait for no man.

And they shall not wait for us.

Walking on the Western Edge – Kalaloch driftwood

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

At beaches at and around Kalaloch are massive piles of driftwood washed ashore over decades and centuries. These “drift logs” include ancient trees that are several feet in diameter and tens of feet long that can weigh several tons.

Over time, the branches, bark, and heartwood—what appears to be nothing more than floating debris—become either home to or sustenance for a range of plants and animals that change the properties of the wood dramatically. This is an example.

Walking on the Western Edge of North America – Kalaloch, Ruby Beach

Photo by S.W. Cosgrove

Traveling north on Washington’s Pacific coast, vast sand beaches and endless horizons of rolling surf are replaced by towering stone stacks in a restless, crashing surf that carries battered driftwood the size of entire trees to the beach.

Inland lies the lush, primordial rainforest.

I love Kalaloch in winter when there are fewer people and the storms roll in, blackening the sky, sending mountains of water into the air before crashing to the beach. I rent a rustic cabin on the beach, going to sleep and waking up with the insistent pulse of the mighty ocean right outside my door.

In future posts, I will share more of this world. Here is Ruby Beach.