Tuesday, February 26, 2008


My first house on Whidbey was on a Cul-de-Sac by the beautiful Compass Rose. Walking down to Ebey's Landing became a nightly ritual for me. Some days when I didn't have the energy to walk the distance, I did anyway. I always knew the prize at the end would be worth it. I sometimes walked twice a day on the weekends.
It is such a comfortable place for me. It knows all my secrets; all my hopes and dreams. It's a spiritual place for me. The beauty of Ebey's Landing brought me through some hard times I thought I would never recover from. It is a place I walked to with my children as they grew up. We had SOME conversations on the way to Ebey's Landing and back.
My first "date" after 3 years of being single, was a walk to Ebey's Landing; as was the first kiss. There were also many picnics at Fort Ebey, our second favorite location. After a time, it was a natural conclusion that the proposal came on a beautiful and sunny Christmas Day - at Ebey's Landing! Followed months later by a beautiful, outdoor wedding at Fort Ebey State Park. How could I not love this place?
We've grown up here, as much as our children have. Once you have experienced this beauty, it's hard to remember anything or anywhere else. And it doesn't let go. My fondest memories are always somewhere within the confines of Ebey's National Historic Reserve. Thank you to those with the foresight to preserve this land.
~Anne Hallam

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Night Comes In

Night comes in
Like a fog on a city bay
A dream that’s still far away
Like ocean rain

Sleep comes in
Like a song in a minor key
The ghosts that are surrounding me
Never going back again

One day
One afternoon
One night
Just to feel this way again

Graveyard on the hill
And it’s filled with the family names
Morning still looks the same
I’m lifted like a veil

Day comes in
Everyone’s got somewhere to go
Trucks rooster-tail this gravel road
Everything leaves a trail

Everything leaves a trail
Around here, everything leaves a trail

Eric Christensen

Thursday, February 14, 2008


I wonder if the cabbage knows
He is less lovely than the Rose;
Or does he squat in smug content,
A source of noble nourishment;
Or if he pities for her sins
The Rose who has no vitamins;
Or if the one thing his green heart knows --
That self-same fire that warms the Rose?