An Island Vacation Taken on a Whim

Orcas Island in the last days of March is as breathtakingly beautiful as it is in the summertime. A one-hour ferry ride off of the coast of western Washington, this lovely and rustic island is one that we find ourselves never boring to return to year after year since honeymooning there. This month, when the forecast predicted a sudden upward turn of temperatures into the 70s, my husband and I decided on the spur of the moment to make a getaway for the island. After a few fast and furious text messages back and forth, we booked a room for two nights at The Blue Heron Bed and Breakfast, a place we’d never been to before, and were thrilled to get a very reasonable price because it’s the off-season. Less than 48 hours later, the two of us plus the toddler were buckled into the car and driving north past the snowcapped mountains to catch the ferry. To this unplanned vacation taken on a whim, the people we met there, and the place we stayed in, I owe the following not-short-of-amazing, I think, life changes in the week after we returned home:

·     Stirrings of the spirit to write again after a 15-month lapse of time away from my blog

·     The purchase of a new, bigger and better bed for our master bedroom 

·     Resolutions about writing, risk-taking and the state of my personal life

Everyone should have a place like this, a haven to fly to and be restored in, where the pace of life slows down, slows way down. There are no traffic lights on the island and no hurrying through intersections. There are long, winding roads through peaceful pastures where sheep, cows and goats, along with their young, graze lazily under the sun. Deer linger at the side of the road and stare as you drive by. Rabbits hop across the way. Birds sing. In the farm houses and the cottages that dot the countryside, you see antiques like old boats, a carousel, old tractors and farm equipment, rusting and falling apart in people’s yards, and rusty old tools. This contrast between rotting structures and green wild growth and the abundance of animals is a paradoxical scene of the slow passing of time and of death and life all at once. Even while we age, new life is forming.

Yes, the island is teaming with life, hemmed in on all sides by a vast body of water filled with living creatures hidden under the deep. Sometimes they make their appearances, like the orca whales it’s named after. Meanwhile, my belly is filled with life too as we expect our second child, but it holds this like a secret just as this island is a secret to so many. Those who find the island, like the fellow companions at our bed and breakfast who came all the way from Germany, are startled by its beauty, but many will never discover it. Nevertheless, it is constantly giving life to all who abide here.

Including the peacock. When we spotted a sign for a Peacock Crossing, I looked all around but only saw sheds and fences in the nearby yard where they must live. Lucky and happy the man who actually sees the peacock cross the road. We were not so lucky. 

The island folk are such open and friendly people that you do not feel alone. They live in community with each other and tied to the nature that surrounds them. They run the natural foods co-op, the shellfish farm, the bookstore and boutique shops, the resorts and restaurants, or many are simply retired. It is a young artist and her author husband and two sons who run this bed and breakfast. She paints the colorful nautical animals from the island that decorate the walls of the house. Talking with them and sharing our stories, listening to the waves lapping against the shoreline, swaying the toddler to sleep on the outdoor patio under the night sky, my own writerly soul begins to stir, to cry and yearn for something more.

It’s been 15 months since I last blogged. That time has been filled to the brim with happiness and tears, learning the art of mothering in our daughter’s first year of life. Caring for and nurturing our daughter, cooking meals, cleaning up messes, doing laundry, and working a part-time job from home have zapped my personal writing energies but have blessed and filled my cup in other ways. I feel I am only now beginning to find myself again, just when we are expecting our second baby this spring.

As it is a time of new beginnings, the island scenery and change in temperature has filled me with a spirit of whimsy, joy and new energy. Why not start up a little writing again and let some light shine into my barns that have been storing up so many memories over the past seasons of mothering? Why not indulge ourselves that a bigger and more comfy bed is the change we need to sleep better and be happier? Why not risk it all and make a few sudden decisions on a whim that will change our lives for the better, instead of being stagnant or settling for what has always been? 

The island teaches me to live boldly. Open the doors and let the breezes in. Turn the rusty handle of my mind and pen and let in the light. Come, reader, come, and revel in spring and island time with me.