Tanya McDonald
Halcyon
Low tide, and the waters of Saratoga Passage draw down to reveal eelgrass, clam shells, and the wide, pebbled shore of Cama Beach. Although I’m here to write, I spend the morning exploring the quarter-mile stretch, dropping into a squat whenever a rock strikes my fancy. Some I recognize as mudstone, basalt, or in rare cases, agates, but most are new discoveries for me. I take out my phone and place each rock on my notebook—rock after rock, photo after photo. When the sun emerges from behind the clouds, I switch to photographing rocks in my hand.
pink granite— the year’s first sunburn
Returning to my cabin, I sift through the photos, selecting a handful to email to a geologist friend. Some rocks are unidentifiable, others he names with confidence. I learn that the sparkle in one stone is muscovite. The layers in another he calls laminae. A piece of me aches to take these treasures home and study them further, but visitors are asked to leave everything in its place for the enjoyment of others, and as a sign of respect toward the Coast Salish who once fished here.
dropped sardine drying on the shore— a distant, rattling call
About the Author
Tanya McDonald is a Seattle-area poet and editor of the haiku journal Kingfisher. She is often distracted by birds.