Cruising the Salish Sea Under the Gaze of a Worm Moon

San Diego has a backdrop of snowy mountains in the winter. Mount Palomar and the Cuyamaca Mountains, the Southern extremity of the Peninsular Range, loom off in the hazy distance. In winter, when the air is clear, their snowy tops can be seen while cruising in a boat off the coast. It is an extraordinary region of the American Southwest and while traveling East from the coastal regions, one encounters sand and rock strewn beaches, valleys, mesas, foothills, mountains, and once through the Peninsular Range you enter the intense desert landscape of the Anza Borrega. I have some fond, and other not so fond, memories of living in the region for 40 plus years. I imagine it is the same for most. I don’t miss it. There is no particular reason to.

For Les and I, those landscapes have been replaced by the magnificent scenery and topography of the Pacific Northwest. If I want dry and desert conditions I only need to drive over the Cascades and work my way into the interior. And, as Palomar mountain is an impressive escarpment rising 6,140 feet out of Pauma Valley in northern San Diego county, it is a mere foothill when compared to the grandeur of Rainier, St. Helens, Adams, Baker, Glacier Peak, and all the other volcano cones and seismic upheavals of the Cascades. Let’s not forget the Olympics, of course, that we observe throughout our Port Ludlow day…

Last night the sky’s were clear and cold. Saturday night and Sunday, we saw winds up to 45 knots, But by Sunday evening the winds stopped and the sky cleared. After sunset, the Worm Moon was out casting her reflective moonbeams upon Port Ludlow Bay which shimmered in delight. The Native American tribes in the South call the March full moon the Worm moon because of the earthworm casts, soil that the worms digest, become visible as the ground thaws. That is such an ecologically inventive nomenclature, eh?

Early this morning it was 35 degrees. There was frost on the dock. And I bore witness to the Worm Moon gazing upon the landscape before her quiet retreat.

Have you ever watched a moonbeam
As it slid across your windowpane
Or struggled with a bit of rain
Or danced about the weather vane

… Nilsson