Olympic Trip: The Mouth
When I was satisfied that the eagle was real, and that I had taken enough images of the bird so that maybe one would be a keeper, I was curious about the view on the other side of the seawall, so that nothing would remain between me and the sea stacks that we saw from our motel room a half mile south.
My first inclination was to climb directly to the top of the twenty foot wall for a view, but the wet rocks provided a precarious foothold——especially in light of the fact that, should I lose my footing, I would probably choose to fall on my face than to catch myself with my left hand, so recently repaired.
So I followed the wall inland several hundred yards until I found a passage through the driftwood, and was met, after some compositional repositioning, with the scene that you see here. It was one of those exhilirating, OMG moments, knowing this was likely to be the most post-cardy image I would take the entire trip.
Be sure and click on small image, since any landscape is diminished in impact by such small image size, but especially a panorama of three or four shots like this one must be seen at a larger size.
It was only after thinking about this view a few days later that I realized that I had been at the mouth of the Quileute River, the feature for which the place was named first by the French: le Bouche (or mouth), and later adulterated as LaPush.
It was in this view, by the way, that another dozen eagles could be seen, waiting for breakfast.