Slanted Sun: Morning in Dog Marsh

Monday the day broke beautifully and I was out the door for a photowalk within minutes of waking up. I chose my go-to destination in hometown Hoquiam, Wash.: Dog Marsh on the Grays Harbor bay.

It's about a mile walk through town to Dog Marsh, and I arrived soon after the sun had popped over the hills to throw a slant of light over everything.

Often when I walk here I hurry along the gravel path to get to the water, but the light had me shooting almost as soon as I started down the gravel path.

The sun was low enough that the tidal inlet on the western border of the marsh was partially in shadow, while the field beyond shone brilliantly.

I noticed the tide was out and found a way down through the weeds and clambered over the driftwood to investigate.

Mud and more mud, a sheet of it, which was almost like water. Don't walk on it; I just heard about a lady in Olympia or Seattle who sank and had to be rescued; the tidal mudflat is a bit like quicksand. I always step on rocks or pieces of driftwood.

The pile of driftwood made an interesting art installation.

Looking back toward town, we can see the channel worn by runoff from the upland (which never seems to stop; there's always water draining from higher to lower in this town).

The low tide was the lowest I've seen in a long while. The dock pilings on the point across the tidal inlet are most often standing in water. They presented a novel look with the rock and base of them exposed.

I returned to the gravel path for these two shots.

And down to the mudflat's edge for this one.

Clambering around the riprap at the point of Dog Marsh...

...I found a log of driftwood to sit on, next to a railroad tie cast, at some point, from the waves.

To the east the Port of Grays Harbor terminal hid behind a sheen of sun.

The west in a spotlight.

I was struck by how steeply the mouth of the tidal inlet slopes.

Someone built a sunset seat alongside the gravel path at the point of Dog Marsh. Looking across the marsh to Hoquiam, Beacon Hill forms a backdrop (and I imagine provides a nice sunset view too).

Heading for home, I took one final shot of the dock pilings across the tidal inlet.

When I reached the line of trees on the backside of the marsh, a raptor of some kind drifted toward me, seeming to follow the electric wires. When it reached me it circled around checking me out.

I've seen this raptor twice this week, once on this photowalk and then later when I was sitting by the river in town. I can't tell what it is. The span of the wings suggests a turkey vulture, but unlike vultures it flies alone. And the head isn't quite as elongated as a vulture.

Based on the wingtips (which are long and individuated, like feathery, spread fingers) I'd like to call it a golden eagle.

Hopefully I'll see it again and get a photo that allows for identification. In the meantime, the raptor provided a nice ending for this Hive post.

Thanks for viewing!