After a visitor's inevitable question "Where is Sequim?" comes "How do you like it? We're thinking about relocating there."
My first reaction is selfish; I really don't want to share
Sequim very badly with anyone who contributes to changing our great place to live.
"I really don't think you'd like it here unless you like frigid winters and even colder summers. And there's no shopping malls here.
"And sometimes they do bridge repairs and then you're totally isolated. You can't even buy bread.
'And then there's the threat of a major earthquake that could drop the ground down some 90 feet in the shake of a dog's tail.
"Naw, it's pretty remote. I really don't know how high the wall of water will be from the next earthquake, but they're talking a record tsunami. Do you like rain?
"It's really quiet here at night, and dark, too. Thank goodness some of the other people that moved in before you got here were able to get the fog horn shut off.
"Oh, and the crowd that arrives for the Lavender Festival is crushing. Better go to the bathroom before the crowds get here because you won't find one vacant the whole weekend.
"And the worst part is you just never know how to dress. It's cold when you leave the house and it can change three times before you get to town. Then to make matters worse it might just rain on your car or a seagull might drench it just after you washed it.
"Another thing. You must keep your pets on a leash. Dog, cats, fish, birds, no matter. And you must pick up after them. Absolutely, I just read it in the paper.
"I know plenty of neighborhood cats that I'd like to see on a leash, but I doubt if they could ever enforce that one. Can you imagine a cat dumb enough to hang around waiting for the cat catcher to get here?
"I really think you should reconsider."
What am I doing? We need visitors to help support our businesses. Further, pretty much everyone in town is a transplant from somewhere. The S'Klallam Tribe are about the only ones who legitimately can squawk about newcomers, and even they were preceded.
Wife Nancy and I were on one of our long cuts home, taking a back road that cut through some very pastoral scenes and then along the strait's edge. The water was glassy and Mount Baker's image in the water definitely had us mesmerized in a state of serious tranquility.
Suddenly bursting into our trance came a light brown hawk of some kind that was taking all sorts of evasive actions to escape two adult bald eagles that were harassing the smaller bird.
Quicker than I could imagine, one of the bald eagles smacked the hawk into the water and picked him up in his landing gear and deposited him on the beach. We were stunned. Sure, this is nature, and this is how it works, but, wow.
Sorry I don't have answers to questions I know you must be asking. The hawk was bigger than a breadbox, but smaller than a Volkswagen. It was not a harrier or a red tail, I think I know them. No, I don't know if the bald eagles were a pair or if they just happened to be shopping down the same aisle. If the grandkids were here, I would have told them that the hawk probably had gotten too close to their nest and had paid the price; but then kids don't ask questions much harder than that.
St. Luke's chapel
I'm impressed with the efforts by St Luke's, on Fifth Avenue, to provide a chapel for the community. In our travels in other parts of the world, we've come across churches and chapels that are open for anyone to step inside and do a little freelance worshiping.
I remember as a kid growing up, finding a chapel just outside Jackson Hole, Wyo., that had a great view of the Tetons. I plopped down in there as a kid and dreamed about life to come.
A view of the Olympics is even more breathtaking because they're ours and they're right here and we are right here. Besides, life today can provide some occasions where a chapel for some serious solitude would be just perfect.
Juan de Fuca Festival
I'm still chirping about this year's festival. What an incredible compilation of eclectic talent.
And the price is a steal. Each one of the performers would be worth the price of a daily pass, let alone all the options available from virtually dawn to dusk.
Not to be outdone: Last week we attended a choral concert of the Port Angeles High School vocal department. Incredible talent. They were joined by our own
Sequim High School select choir for a truly moving rendition of Vivaldi's "Gloria."
I hadn't seen so many guys in vocal music and I've never heard high schoolers put out that quality of sound. I'd choose to hear them over many professional groups I've heard before.
Jim Follis is a retired school administrator, has published two books and currently writes three newspaper columns. Eating, drinking and making merry are his professed hobbies. Traveling, trekking and observing people follow not far behind.
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