After high school, your children fly away to college. After that, they fly away on other adventures and to jobs and husbands or wives. If we’re lucky, they come back … for a while. Last week was one such time.
It was the last week of summer, and my youngest daughter flew over from the East Coast to spend some time with those of us who currently live in the Pacific Northwest.
She spent some time with her sisters and then with me. At my house, she worked remotely on East Coast time while I slept. We took walks and cooked and ate out.
Then all three girls, my son-in-law, and I took a ferry to Whidbey Island. We stayed for a few days in a lovely house chosen by my oldest daughter. It was a good choice: four bedrooms, a water view, and a hot tub. When our kids were young, my late husband and I had to do all the planning. I enjoy leaving it up to the kids.
Whidbey Island is 58 miles long, the fourth largest island in the contiguous United States, so there’s a lot to see and do there.
Here’s a small sampling.
Fish in the sculpture forest.
And a big bird of prey. An eagle?
West Beach
An amazing tree at West Beach. Douglas firs are usually straight and tall. But this 850-year-old Douglas fir growing on a sandy windswept beach, is gloriously misshapen.
Another favorite tree of mine, madrona. This one is near Deception Pass.
Another beach, Langley
Getting down to the beach … and back up again
Writing this post reminded me of something I read way back in the 1960s. Considering all the books I’ve forgotten in the meantime, I’m surprised I still remember Kahil Gibran’s 1923 novel, The Prophet, and the section “On Children.” Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if you remember it too.
Here it is:
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
From The Prophet (Knopf, 1923). This poem is in the public domain.
That looks like a gorgeous place to visit, and I love the fact that your children now do the travel planning.
I love that Gibran poem, and heartily agree with its sentiments. And your opening paragraph expressed beautifully how it is once they grow and fly.
Thank you, Debs. Some people love the planning part of travel. I’m not one of them. I’d rather just be satisfied with where someone else takes me. I’ve been on a couple of European tours–one planned by my kids (parts of France, England, and Spain) and one planned by a European tour specialist (a Rick Steves tour of Sicily and southern Italy). Both were great.
I’ve heard about Whidbey Island for years. From your photos I can see how lovely it is and am tickled to know you were there were your daughters. I’m glad you were able to connect and spend time together again.
I’m sort of surprised that you’ve heard of Whidbey Island. Now I’m sorry I didn’t take more photos for you. Besides the beaches and the trails, it’s a popular place for artists and writers. We visited an coop art gallery run by 34 artists. And Hedgebrook on Whidbey Is. does writers’ residencies and public programs.
I love spending time with my daughters, the sons-in-law and the grandchildren.
You’re all bundled up! Must be a tad cooler there than it is here.
I love the photos and poem you chose to share. When parents are intent on MOLDING their children, instead of gently UNFOLDING them, they are not allowing their ARROWS to fly free.
Glad you had such a lovely gathering.
Yes, it was a little chilly in the morning. Plus, I like to be nice and warm.
My preference is to tell people what to do as seldom as possible. Fortunately my daughters usually made reasonable choices.
Sounds like a wonderful getaway. I’ve always loved Gibran.
It’s amazing that so many people have been touched by Gibran’s writing. Reading him was a kind of fad for our generation.
Just lovely, the pictures and the poem. Too many parents do try and mold their kids into themselves, rather than being supportive as the child grows into their own unique self.
“… being supportive as the child grows into their own unique self” is a good way to put it, especially when your children have their own unique and strong personalities. After keeping them safe and providing opportunities for them to learn and grow, it’s a pleasure to sit back and admire what they do with it.
A lovely visit and a good reminder from Kahlil Gibran. I do love the segment you quoted.
We did have a lovely visit, Sophia, and we all enjoyed Whidbey Island. One of our last stops was at Greenbank Farms for their delicious berry pie.
Nicki, thank you for taking us along on your walk. Beautiful photos! Love the sculpture forest! How wonderful that your children came to see you and then took you on this adventure. 😊 I couldn’t have children, but I enjoy other people’s children.
You not only enjoy other people’s children, you write for them.
The Sculpture Forest was lots of fun. There were whimsical sculptures and sculptures that were so delicate and high that we had to hunt for them. There were also scary sculptures: a open-mouthed dinosaur and what looked like an ape from The Planet of the Apes made from pieces of bark and placed high on big stump. One of my favorites was a series of white pieces arranged in a big circle symbolizing the spores of mushroom spreading growth.