Iron Springs

We came out to Iron Springs again this summer—something we do when we need to breathe a bit of the ocean air. It’s not the only place we like to stay at along the northern coast but it is certainly one of the oldest. Sweetie and I first came out here back in 86 or 87 with Todd and Priss, a couple friends from Evergreen, and have managed to make it back what seems like once a year, although I find that hard to believe.

There’s no internet access out here, at least none that I’ve been able to find, so right now I’m sitting on the deck with Ku’ya, waiting for Sweetie and the Older Boy to get done with their morning swim so’s we can pack up a picnic lunch and head out to the sand. Ku and I already went out this morning we could check out the damage to our sandcastle from the overnight high tide. It fared pretty well all things considered, it’s main central tower still standing with all decoration attached. The outer walls and small village we built was entirely wiped out, although I like to thing the villagers had enough time to make their way into the keep before the great floods took their toll. I guess today will be a rebuilding day for those survivors left, a day of great mourning but also of great possibilities.

Beaches were made for dogs and Ku’ya is no exception. She spends the days with her feet hardly touching the ground, as she sprints from point to point vacillating between believing she can take it all in, in one mad dash and collapsing in a wet tired heap defeated by the shear vastness of the Pacific ocean’s never ending collection of smells and sounds. Ike slept out under an umbrella for most of yesterday afternoon, while the rest of us ran around in the surf and dug trenches in the sand. When he finally woke up he was full of smiles and for the first time in a while, seemed genuinely happy to be there.

We built a second sand castle before we left, this one without the small village in its shadow, and after the tide came and went, it stood almost no worse for the wear even though the surf came past it by at least 20 feet. For as long as I can remember, I’ve enjoyed building sand castles to withstand an incoming tide. There is something about the fruitless pursuit of having it survive the first few waves that I find hard to resist.

This was the last hurrah before school starts and the days get shorter. Before time is taken up with the holidays and learning and a colder wind and rain--before there’s soup for dinner, fires in the fireplace and long pants—a time from when the Puyallup Fair begins through the long months until the first pitch of spring. How many more summers will there be before we’ve left all our youth behind?