The Middle Way

I should never say never, because I always end up eating my words. Last year I spent the month of January in Anacortes, Washington, and found I really didn’t care much for that town. It was pretty,  but the hills were too rounded. The sea was too mellow. No ragged jagged crags, no crashing surf. I could see why some people really loved it, but it was too tame. It just wasn’t wild enough for me. I felt stifled.

I’m a fan of in-your-face dramatic landscapes.  Landscapes that smack you down and leave you awestruck. As a park ranger I’ve worked  in parks that contain the highest and the lowest spots in North America. I live in a park that has more high mountains and more glaciers than anywhere else in the country.  You might say I’m addicted to the extremes.

When I left Anacortes, I told myself I would never do another winter housesit in northern Washington. But when an opportunity came this year for a long-term housesit, in an oceanfront property on Orcas Island, I jumped on it.

I occasionally had second thoughts. I love the winters I’ve spent traveling throughout the West, checking out many different fabulous locations along the way. Will I miss my travels? Absolutely!

I will miss the colors and textures of the deserts. I will miss the wild winter waves along the open Pacific coast. I will miss the wildlife extravaganzas I’ve been so lucky to witness in New Mexico’s Bosque del Apache and California’s Piedras Blancas National Wildlife Refuges. I will especially miss following the bloom, enjoying the spring wildflowers as I travel north from the Mexican border to Oregon.

But spending the winter on Orcas has its benefits. I attended one of the best performances I’ve ever witnessed last week, Rafe Pearlman’s Kanu. It was like nothing else I’ve ever seen before. Being in one place for the whole winter will give me the space and time to finish the book I’ve been working on.  I can immerse myself in, and get to know, two entirely new ecosystems, both the Salish Sea island environment and the intertidal zone. I’m really excited about that opportunity. One big benefit is that staying here is much kinder to the planet, keeping my carbon levels low. I’ve gone through less than a tank of gas in the entire month of November!

Most importantly, I can try to resolve a lot of chronic pain issues I’ve been struggling with the last few years. That’s something I’ve been unable to do, home in McCarthy, where it’s a 500-mile round trip to see a health professional. On Orcas, I have access to so many wellness practitioners; massage therapists, chiropractors, acupuncture, physical therapy and more.  They call Orcas the healing island. There’s a vibe here.

I’ll still be challenged by the lack of those extremes that I love. I’m not alone. A fellow Alaskan I met here said, “I feel too big for this place somehow. I talk too loud, I move too suddenly. I love it here, but I’m too…big.” I understand what she means.

Orcas Island has its own beauty. There are lovely waterfalls and noble trees. But it’s subtle.   It’s not one of the extremes. You might say it’s the Middle Way.

Following the Middle Way is following the Tao. It’s a righteous way to live. So perhaps for me, for this winter, the Middle Way is the place to be. It’s time to leave the outer journey behind for a time and work on the inner journey. It’s a journey I look forward to. Peace to all from Orcas.

Thanks to Jude of Cornwall in Colors for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Textures.