A Picture of Regret

The picture that's worth a thousand words assumes a heavier price when not taken.

For the last two and a half years, a picture I did not take in August 2015 has bothered me. The regret stems not from some beautiful missed sunset or mountain scene but rather from the awful image of dead seabirds washed up on the coast of Washington state. In the past, I have blogged about the disturbing experiences I had with global warming during the summer of 2015, and I have even mentioned that I saw the seabird carcasses, but this will be my first post dedicated specifically to those birds.

I saw the dead birds at Roosevelt Beach, their bodies half-buried in the sand and mixed with ocean debris at the high-water mark. The effects of the summer's unusual weather had already disoriented and disconcerted me. The heat, drought, and fires presented me with a Pacific Northwest I hardly recognized but for which I grieved deeply. Going to the beach seemed like a good way to escape the oppressive conditions, and although the ocean breeze made things cooler, seeing the dead birds added to my alarm. At the time, I didn't know what kind of birds they were, and I didn't realize the connection between the heat and their deaths. As it turned out, they were common murres, and the warming of the Pacific Ocean depleted their food sources, starving them into a mass die-off up and down North America's west coast.

A common murre swims in the surf off
Roosevelt Beach in August 2015.

A thought of taking a picture to capture the sad image crossed my mind, but I hesitated and ultimately decided not to snap it. I can't pinpoint the exact reason I didn't take it, but I remember feeling sad and confused about the sight before me. The birds' unceremonious demise made me question whether I wanted to or even should keep a photographic memory of it. I felt powerless and ashamed too. So I walked past without giving them the recognition they warranted. All I ended up with was a shot of a live common murre swimming in the surf just beyond the dead bodies of its kin. It's a haunting image in its own way--dark, lacking detail, and showing the bird looking into a vast ocean of uncertainty.

Regardless of why I didn't photograph the carcasses, I know I wish I had taken that picture of them. I should have recorded the moment. Because of what those birds went through, they deserved having their fate documented in the hopes that it would inspire people to prevent more die-offs from happening in the future. Additionally, the photo would have added another piece to the larger picture of what global warming, fueled by human activity, does to this planet.

The picture of those dead murres never made it to my camera, but the memory of seeing them on the beach has stayed with me in vivid regret and led me to write these words in an attempt to make up for the omission. I suspect it isn't enough.

A Place and Its Moment

Wind turbines churn out renewable
energy near Grayland, Washington.

American journalist Mignon McLaughlin wrote, "The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next."

The state of Washington needs that courage now from its legislators and from its people. We stand on the edge of a transition from one moment to another, and that move asks us to take a major step.

During the past five years, Washington has seen major impacts of global warming but no legislative action to address it. Consequently, that half-decade did not contain the fondest moments for Washington's environmentalists. In November 2012, voters elected Governor Jay Inslee, a Democrat who has highlighted global warming as a key issue. That same year, two Democrats switched allegiance and began caucusing with Republicans, putting the state senate in GOP control. Every year since then, with major droughts, die-offs in sea life, and record-breaking fire seasons taking place, Inslee has called for climate legislation only to have Republicans block it.

Election results from a single race on Tuesday made possible a new and brighter moment in Washington government. Democrat Manka Dhingra won election to the senate in a district previously represented by a Republican, returning control of the chamber to Democrats. That means, no obstacles remain to prevent Inslee's desired legislation. As long as Democrats have the courage to make it happen, we can finally address this urgent issue.

This is the moment the state has waited for, and we must make the most of it. Our beloved region desperately needs action on global warming, and that work has to start at home. No excuses, no procrastinating. Whether the legislation comes in the form of a cap-and-trade system like the one Inslee proposed three years ago or a carbon tax like the one voters placed on the ballot in 2016, this legislation needs to get done, and needs to be done well.

Our moment is here, Washington, and we must be courageous. Contact your legislators and the governor, and tell them to seize this opportunity for a healthier planet.

Plan Beach

The waves roll in on a perfect day at Twin Harbors State Park.

My last big outdoor trip of the summer went to the dogs, and they went to the beach.

Several of my adventures this summer have not gone according to plan. In some cases, the people changed; in others, the destinations changed. The overall goal had been to visit Mount Rainier, Mount St. Helens, Mount Hood, and Mount Adams. I was able to accomplish the first three-fourths of that objective in various ways. Mount Adams proved more elusive. I could see it on clear days, but the hike I had planned near it fell through when the United States Forest Service had to close the access road for repairs.

If nothing else, however, the summer was about going with the flow. As in the case of the Mount Hood trip, the obstacle at Mount Adams led to another path, and happily, my family's dogs could go on this one. My mom and I loaded them up on the day we'd originally scheduled for Mount Adams and took them to Twin Harbors State Park in Grayland, Washington. The park encompasses a beach as well as a pine forest that lies behind the dunes.

Despite being the second option for the day, the trip to the beach came together like we'd planned it all along. We had perfect weather, and the dogs enjoyed their stroll in the sand. Everyone found plenty of things to enjoy. Our older dog didn't know what to investigate first--the surf, the driftwood, or the dunes. The younger dog enjoyed the attention he received from the other people at the beach. I found the pine forest with its evergreen huckleberry bushes very cute, and as always, my mom enjoyed the smell of the ocean. I hadn't been to that beach since a field trip in seventh grade. Yet I am glad that my scrambled plans gave me the chance to go back finally.

My summer wasn't without its challenges, but it ended up being a day at the beach.

Duck, Duck, Plastic

The writers of all those messages in bottles were on to something: If you want to find connections, the ocean is the place.

However,  today's connections are being established through plastics, not bottle messages, and it's not a love story in the making. The following video helps explain how plastics accumulate in the ocean and what some of the consequences of this might be:



Although the video makes some great points, especially those concerning how our actions are interrelated, I disagree with one point: the idea that the only option for dealing with this problem is to make plastics that break down. This may be a good option, but it isn't the only option. A stronger solution would be to cut back on our consumption, decreasing the need for plastics.

I think understanding how we are connected to the plastic problem is a step in the right direction. The video helps with that. Another tool is offered by Adrift.org, which uses a virtual rubber ducky to give people a sense of how their plastics can spread in the ocean. Simply place the duck in an ocean somewhere and watch as the plastic it represents spreads. Click here to check it out.

The masses of plastics floating in our oceans are sending us a message: The accumulations start with a single purchase. It's time we get that message.

Finn Focus

I just returned from a visit to Finland, so my next blog entries will focus on that trip. It is great because I get to talk a little more about the Finn part of envirofinn.

Finland gives many chances to go outside and experience nature, and I tried to take as many of those opportunities as I could. I had a great time everywhere I went.

Here is a picture of a lake in Repovesi National Park. I really liked the walk around the park. The sights are similar to those in the Pacific Northwest.

This is a picture of a field near Turku, Finland's former capital. The yellow and the green were pretty together.

Finally, this picture shows the coastline of the Gulf of Finland near Kotka in the country's southeastern region. (Thanks to my cousin for showing the place to me.)

There is more to come, so stay tuned.

Under the Sea

Most of the photography I've blogged about happens on land, but above the water is not the only place to take pictures.

My sister sent me a link to a Web site from underwater photographer Chris Gug, and I was impressed with the images, so I thought I would share the site. To see Gug's photos, click here.

Love is in the Land

Tonight, I read a blog post from an intern at the National Wildlife Federation about her crush on the Pacific Northwest. She highlighted 14 reasons she loves the region, and it got me thinking about my own affection for the PNW.

First, I'd like to add to the nice list compiled by the NWF writer by drawing attention to the Willapa Hills and the Washington coast. The hills embrace you warmly, and our beaches have a unique beauty. I also think we have great animal and plant species that contribute to the PNW's personality (the orca for example).

Finally, I don't think I'd call my feelings for the area a "crush." This love runs deep--the kind you feel for your family or a soulmate. The environment and lifestyle here shaped me, so no matter where I go, the PNW will always be a piece of me.

Love Seafood and the Sea

The ocean certainly provides some tasty treats, and I've enjoyed a lot of them in my life. I'd like to continue enjoying them, and I also want to make sure that I show my appreciation to the ocean by protecting it.

Unfortunately, the oceans are having some trouble now. They are becoming more acidic and more polluted, and many areas have become dead zones. That's not good for the health of the oceans, the well-being of the animals and plants in them, or those of us who love the ocean and what it provides.

Through our seafood choices, we can improve the health of the oceans and ensure we get clean food. The Natural Resources Defense Council has provided tips for how to do that.

I particularly like the suggestions for eating locally and supporting sustainable-harvest practices.

Growing up within an hour of the ocean gave me some great experiences and much wonderful cuisine. I am indebted to the ocean for those things, so it's great to know I can do my part to keep them coming.