Reading the New York Times today,I was ECSTATIC to come across an article mentioning a possible list of new Monuments in the West-one of which is the San Juan Islands!!!! I really don't know why these beautiful islands aren't monuments of this country already.They are nearly untouched , with the exception of small towns such as Friday Harbor, Eastsound, and other small hamlets.What change has happened is very gradual.No franchised businesses are allowed ( such a shame that the developers of the Hawaiian islands have not heeded to this).People there are very friendly,involved in their communities, in touch with their fantastic natural surroundings and up to date with what is going on in the world.There is no suburbia or sprawl, you have to pay to dump your trash..in short, San Juan Islanders really know how to live and at the same time to keep the natural areas in which they reside intact.
The natural beauty is very stunning and comforting at the same time.Rocky cliffs and high hills swoop into natural meadows and clearings, blanketed in rich green trees.The water is a home to orca whales, otters, various fishes and the infamous bald eagle.The islands are in a nice spot in the water, close to Canada, but also far enough away from Vancouver and Seattle that you truly appreciate when you disembark from the ferry or plane.
Perhaps I am at a disadvantage for writing this praise, since my first time in San Juan was when I was in embryo and therefore have a very strong link to this amazing place.I grew up camping there, so sometimes my sense of proportion of the islands is a little on the short side.I can always recall waking up before everyone else and going for a walk down the road; our lot on the cul de sac dead end is really a blessing.I'd try to walk they way a deer did,moving one leg gradually at a time, hoping to spot a "fellow deer." I usually did, and we'd exchange eye contact and I'd inch a bit closer, then my friend would leap gracefully through the trees away from me. I'd continue on nearly all the way to the beginning of the road to pick blackberries.Nothing like some blackberries toasty warm from the sun for a breakfast!
We'd often go to Lake Dale for the day, which is a small "resort" with a little lake.We loved to swim there, and the memories of the stinking port a potties and the long walk back to our land in the afternoon sun are still very vivid.One summer I'd been reading about Pocahontas a lot, and I decided to get in a canoe and paddle myself around.Well myself at that time was a very skinny and frail dreamer, so of course the canoe drifted into the cat tails on a far edge of the lake.My embarrassed mother had to borrow a kayak and rescue me.
When I was towards the middle of high school my parents finally realized their dream of building a house there.It took more than a year, and we became good friends with the eccentric Irish builder,Declan, and his father in law,Ted, also a builder and carpenter.Declan is truly a bohemian person, and we always have a very long discussion and barrels upon barrels of laughs with him.He is constantly playing some unique music in his cumbersome green van, and is just as curious about artists and off beat literature as I am.
Ted meanwhile is very shy, but very charming and sweet.I came back to the house one summer and found a book missing, so I went to Serendipity (more later on this gem) and found another copy.Turns out Ted had borrowed it, and he shyly gave it to me the next time I saw him.I wrote a nice missive in the cover and gave it right back to him.He is a gentle person with a merry side you have to dig to find.
Serendipity is another aspect of the island I will always cherish.It is a fantastic used book store housed in the bottom floor of a small Victorian house.I have spent hours here ever since I can remember.I often go into town with my parents, and delve into the rooms for 3 or so hours, until a slightly anxious face finds me and asks if I want a ride,or to walk the five miles back in the dark.There is a small potbellied stove, but alas the resident Persian cat died a few years ago.This the bookstore I grew up with , much more fulfilling and dear then the Borders and Barnes and Nobles in every socket these days.
San Juan in the summer, if you come late enough, is a dream.The air is warm yet cool, usually in the 60s up to the low 80s (0ne summer it was up to 90 which is rare). The sun is warm but make sure to have a fleece on hand, because the goose bumps come easily in the shade.Many birds fly and the fawns are out feeding with their mothers.In Friday Harbor there is the farmer's market every Saturday in the summer from 10 to 1 in the parking lot by the courthouse. Kittens and rabbits make scarce sightings for adoption,but the produce,honey,bread,flowers,and local craftsmen always are constant and refreshing.
This is making me miss the island very intensely.
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