Tiz. Late November and the fungi are busily devouring their favorites.
Lusciously edible:
Moderately edible:
Hallucinogenicly Poisonous:
Devouringly Hungry:
Begging you to wonder… a few oddities peer at you from around the corners of their surrounds.
The sun play-acting ineffectively at a game of hide and seek by concealing behind a wispy copse of red alder:
An archaic pumphouse encouraging an overgrowth of licorice fern to colonize it’s formerly bald cranium.
Off in the far distance, an Ohio-class ballistic missile submarine blowing its ballast while travelling through Admiralty Inlet… I presume it was on its way to its home port of Bangor, within Hood Canal:
A duck by any other name… is still a duck.
A bridge over troubled waters:
Mount Baker lurking behind Fidalgo Island:
Last night’s sunset:
This morning’s sunrise:
Well… that’s a taste of the past few days in the lives of itinerant retireds. May the wind be at your back and the swell a mere trifle.
Salish Sea Cruising With Blair, Les, Leo, and Bliss 