Walking along Seattle's Lake Washington Ship Canal

At first my daily walk was exercise, no more. My New Year's resolution a January or so ago was to walk for half an hour a day. For the first few weeks I walked aimlessly, timing myself, just trying to get in the half-hour. Then I discovered the canal path. Its main value then was that it was flat, a rare find in the city called the San Francisco of the north. It wasn't long, however, before I began noticing the changes going on around me, changes that I would never have seen if I had not a regular visitor.

The most obvious change is in vegetation. Even a person walking just to walk can hardly miss bare branches bursting into blossom, or green leaves turning colors, then falling off. Other plants, too, shout for attention, like the Oregon Grape with its bright yellow flowers in the spring, followed by loads of tiny white berries that turn purple, as spring becomes summer. Other plants are quieter. Do you know how many kinds of mushrooms there are? They spring up for only few days after the rain, different kinds depending on the time of year. I have seen tiny brown crowds with pointed caps, and those with slightly larger white domes. In the late summer come ones shaped like small brown taco bowls, the size of two cupped hands, and in autumn a kind that are flat and low, which camouflage themselves as fallen leaves. After a year, I have a store of beautiful memories: paper birches that shine white against the blue of the sky, and the deep green of the pines behind them; watching their leaves turn pale yellow, then brown (yet when the rare sun of autumn hits them, they gleam like gold) and scotch broom in the rain, with water droplets gathered along its slender stems like transparent beads on a green string.

Watching the Changes in Vegetation

Ducks and Birds along the Canal

But it wasn't the plants that I most eagerly watched for every day, it was the ducks, or, as the guidebooks put it, ducks and duck-like swimmers. The incident that started me on my duck odyssey was one evening hearing what sounded like quacking coming from the poplar branches above me. Intrigued, I checked out every book I could find on birds of the Pacific Northwest. Now when I walk the path I know they are cormorants. Sometimes I fantasize that I am a tour guide along the canal. "On your left, in the berry-covered branches are the house wrens. We see them mainly in the fall. All around them, cawing up a storm, and strutting through the grass like they own the place are the crows. The big birds grazing like a herd of avian cattle are not Canadian geese, but Canada geese. Watch out for the deposits they leave behind! Those are Western gulls, of course, squawking overhead, and floating down the canal like tiny frigates. "And here are the ducks. Over there are the mallards with gleaming, metallic green heads and dowdy wives. The ducks that are the same size and shape, but gray-brown all over are gadwalls. In the water, the small, slate gray divers with yellow/white bills are American coots. With them are the scaups, the pandas of the duck world, with black tails and head, and white in the middle. They mix with the coots, but seldom with the mallards. And do you see the one with white stripes on its shoulders? He and his mate are goldeneyes, the only two I have ever seen here. "Now, with the dusk come the cormorants. Watch them glide in, necks extended, graceful and silent--until they grab poplar branches to stop themselves, bobbing up and down like huge ungainly crows, quacking like ducks. They stay until dawn, when they launch themselves in long, graceful arcs, heading back for Lake Washington, where they spend their days."

It added so much to my enjoyment to know about the birds and trees I see. Now I look for my friends and see how they are changed and rearranged. When the scaups are gone, I miss them. When the birches put out their brand new chartreuse leaves, I rejoice. When the cormorants fly in early, I wonder what happened on Lake Washington. And when I see the first wildflowers of spring, my heart sings.

Appreciation grows with Knowledge

Other People on the Path

As I walk, I wonder about the people I meet. Are they on a similar metaphysical path? Do the joggers and bikers see the nature around them, or are they only getting exercise? Are the chatting groups heading for a place to eat lunch thinking about anything but food and business? Are the readers here to enjoy the outdoors or only the quiet? I believe that at least the grandparents and grandchildren are on my path. I can tell by their smiles and shining eyes. Do you know what's happening on your every day path? It's never too late to open your eyes and begin to see!

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