Crossing the 520 Bridge

The sun has only just set, dipping below the western hills toward the unseen vastness of the Pacific Ocean. Our little piece of the Pacific slowly darkens from blue-gray to a color of blue and black too dark to differentiate. Crossing the bridge now, I pass over wetlands and lily pad habitat, the land only hesitantly giving way to water. Fading light shines on smooth ripples, brightening the tops with white, and outlines bunches of sedges and rushes. It’s bedtime for most birds, but in the summer, waterfowl flock here. Continue Reading...