Hubby decided he wanted to go to see the changes. I agreed, thinking I could photograph birds for my blog. Hubby researched the best time to visit and learned wildlife viewing is best for two hours after high tide and two hours before sunset. He looked up the tides and time of sunset and found a time where high tide happened three hours before sunset. We had a prime wildlife-viewing window. We packed our cameras and caught the appropriate ferry arriving exactly as we had planned an hour after high tide and two hours before sunset.
The whole experiment looked promising when we quickly encountered a hawk on a branch. The hawk was easy enough to spot. Five photographers stood under his tree snapping pictures. The hawk was the last bird we saw for the next mile of our walk. We saw lots of photographers who apparently had also researched high tide and sunset. We saw some lovers. I felt comforted to know the human race will continue, but birds were scarce.
Once it became obvious that despite the high tide and setting sun we were not seeing a plethora of birds to photograph, I opened my eyes to what was there. The wind came in off of the Puget Sound carrying the moist scent of salt water. It sent rippling waves through the tall leaves of the cattails. Grasses danced in the wind. The ruffled water caused the reflected sunlight to sparkle and shimmer. A cloud passing overhead sent a shadow scurrying over the meadow. From our boardwalk we could see dozens of shades of green.
When we returned to the car our carefully planned accidental expedition continued. Hubby asked, “Is that restaurant south of here or do we go north?”
I asked, “What restaurant?”
“Oh you know. The one that Christine said was so good.”
“Ah. Did she say something was good?” My memory had completely failed.
“Yes. She raved about it.”
“Oh. There are restaurants south of here, but the fort is north and nothing decent until we get beyond that.”
“Are there any restaurants here?’
“A burger place and a bar and grill.”
“We’ll try that.” Hubby decided.
The Nisqually Bar and Grill had a family dining area, so feeling adventurous we went in. Loren ordered a burger. Now, I have food allergies and a delicate digestive system. I rate restaurants by whether I’ve ever gotten sick on their food. My choices are few. I asked the waitress, “Does your fried fish have eggs in the breading?”
The young woman communicated my allergy to the cook. He affirmed that the fish was egg-free. I ordered the fish with a dinner salad. Our food came. My dinner salad tasted like the inside of a refrigerator. My fish tasted like a bite of heaven. Oh that was fantastic fish! Hubby said his burger was the best he’d eaten in years and his fries were magnificent. His ice tea was undrinkable, but we were in a bar. One maybe shouldn’t judge a bar on their ice tea and salads.
By the time we got home, I decided that we’d found one more place where we could eat, and I wouldn’t get sick. The fried food was great. Our dining experience turned successful despite the salad and the tea.
Much of life is like our little trip to photograph birds. We don’t always get what we plan for. Not everything turns out great, but if you accept what you do have in your life, life becomes pretty good. The excursion was successful despite not meeting our expectation.