Last month I went to the Mukilteo Lighthouse Park to visit it, my old friend, and reminisce on old times. I have visited there for 48 years. The park shared with me the true beauty and serenity of the sunrise and sunset. It has shown me the power of great storms and the beautiful movement of the tides and all its wildlife. It was on this water channel that I saw my first pod of orca whales. I walked this beach during the worst times of my life and in celebration of my deepest joys.
On this rock wall is my favorite sport where I often sit for spiritual contemplation. By that pier I once helped a young boy — who could not swim — out of the water. On that large driftwood tree is where I sat when I was unemployed and unsure of my future. The seawall next to the lighthouse is where I got my inspiration to write an award-winning book. What great memories. I recall our family picnics on this beach. We made bets on the time the sun would fall behind the hills on Whidbey Island. Our grandchildren played on this driftwood and competed to be the best “wood walker” in the family. I can still hear their quarrels for stepping on the sand, their cheers for winning family bragging rights as best wood walker. I’m sure the park, my old friend, knows all this better than I can recall.
When I drove down to visit this last time, I noticed a new addition: a parking meter that requires me to pay if I want to spend time there. My friend still possesses magnificent beauty, but it’s different now because I need to be attentive to my allotted time. I would like to sit on this log and reminisce more, but I can’t; it appears that the time that was ours alone now belongs to someone else at two dollars an hour.
David P. Alcorta
Everett
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