Not Quite Stonehenge, But Nearly as Strange

I first spied the oddly convoluted landscape, now known as Chambers Creek Properties, from the deck of the tall ship Adventuress, several years ago. I had no idea what it was. Shortly after we sailed south of Point Defiance in Tacoma and under the Narrows Bridge, I noticed the bare acreage off the ship's port side. Wide open and sculpted, it stretched from the waters of Chambers Bay to the top of a long hill, between the wooded residential area of University Place  and the historic town of Steilacoom, Washington's oldest incorporated community. Here and there at the base of the hill stood the unidentifiable remains of massive concrete structures. I could tell that some serious alteration of the earth's surface had taken place there, and not by the hand of Mother Nature.

From Gravel to Golf

Later, I learned the history of this strange place, a saga going back over 200 years, to a time when the local Native Americans from the Steilacoom tribe lived in the area. The first non-native settlers arrived in 1832, with the Hudson Bay Company, and built Fort Steilacoom just south of the property. By the 1850s, as more forts were being erected around Puget Sound, the site already had a primitive gravel mining operation and soon became home to other industries to do with milling, timber, and gravel. Now, this expanse of well over 900 acres is owned by Pierce County and the former gravel pits have been reshaped to become a world class designation for golfers, selected as the site of the 2015 U. S. Open Championship tournament.

Even though I'm not a golfer, I wrote a previous blog post about this place after visiting the Chambers Bay Grill, and admiring both the view and the excellent food. That visit took place during the heat of summer, when the long walk down to the bay sounded fine but the prospect of walking all the way back up did not. So it wasn't until the first weekend in February 2012 that I actually took the time to walk the paved trails that wind through the grassy fields and past what remains of the mining operations, all the way to the beach via a lovely bridge that arches over the railroad tracks. Sunday morning, my husband and I arrived early at the grill and enjoyed a breakfast I'm still thinking about, perfectly prepared and generous. Then we drove (yes you can drive) down the long curving road to a parking lot below, where walkers had just begun showing up, many with their dogs.

Come along with me as I visit this interesting place once again, through my photos.

Catching a Rainbow

This is no fish tale. It was the biggest rainbow I'd ever seen. I don't mean a trout. I mean a complete and perfect, faintly double semi-circle of radiant colors that, from my vantage point, arched in full glory from the Narrows Bridge to Vashon Island. Maybe you saw it too, if you live in Tacoma and happened to look west on Tuesday morning, Nov. 10. I opened the front curtains about 7:30, expecting just another rainy morning, and there it glowed before my eyes like a necklace of jewels.

"You HAVE to come see this," I yelled to my husband. He already had. I stood there mesmerized for probably a full minute before I thought to grab my camera. But this rainbow, wouldn't fit in the "net" of my lens. I could only catch parts of it. And even as I fumbled, running out onto the wet front porch in my bare feet, it began to fade, "the big one that got away." Like so many of life's most perfect moments, it came and went too quickly. Maybe I should have forgotten about the camera and just stood there and savored every second.

I found a rainbow when I expected only rain. It made me think about the importance of keeping our eyes open to beauty, and keeping our hearts open to the little unexpected gifts of joy that come our way. I hope some of you saw it too, and agree with me that it was worth all this rain. Maybe, instead of rain, we should choose to expect rainbows.