Spring Rain & Spring Salmon

Snow Geese In Flight! Washington State 2026.

This morning, there was a subtle change in the air! During my early walk with my dog, I was intimately aware of the myriad water droplets clinging to the trees and new buds all around me, a million tiny gems reflecting and winking all along the road.

Inhaling, I couldn’t ignore that earthy smell (petrichor, from the Greek word petra [stone] and ichor [ethereal fluid flowing in the veins of Greek gods]). Or not notice that special light, storm light, that gleams in each of those water beads. That same light that accentuates the surrounding green of fluorescent mosses (over seven hundred species), and my neighbors’ lawns…  and that announces a time out (at least for a while) after days of rain.

Spring Plum! Washington State 2026.

Stopping silently on the road, I hoped to hear that other early sign of spring, the song of the Pacific Chorus Frog 0r the Pacific Tree Frog, whose croaking starts in January or February. No sounds early this morning from the countless ponds, puddles, and culverts, but I expect I will hear them calling loudly at the end of day.

Forsythia! Washington State 2026.

Returning home, I embraced and attempted to draw out that feeling of spring euphoria by giving my dog a few extra treats and taking my time removing her harness, toweling her off, and just breathing in that smell of fresh grass and dirt.

This afternoon, the low light of spring continues to shine, intensifying colors and contrast. Spring has arrived in the Pacific Northwest!

"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."

 Margaret Atwood

Here in the home 0f the Coast Salish Nations, spring is a spiritual time of renewal and awakening. The season is heralded by the return of the sacred early spring Chinook salmon (generally March through late May). More locally, the Lhaq'temish, the Lummi People, and the Nooksack tribe, Nuxwsá7aq, await the first Chinook return to the Nooksack River and the annual, ancient, First Salmon Ceremony that honors that return. 

Weeping Willow!  Washington State 2026.

Of course, spring brings more than singing birds and blooming flowers. Here in Whatcom County the local rivers, the Nooksack, Samish, and Skagit are all on moderate-flood watch, and Interstate 5 through Bellingham is closed northbound due to rockslides. The last week has been rain heavy. But rain is a fact of life in the Northwest, and rain now may mean (hopefully) less drought, fires, and restrictions later in the summer. Of course, rain really defines the Northwest with its gradient and hydrology, the long periods of drizzle, fog, and grey – and nutrient rich salmon streams. At least for this one sunny afternoon, I can appreciate and anticipate that cycle of precipitation, of water, and how it creates the wonderful ambiance and weather that I love here along the Northwest Coast.

Thou Shall Not Pass! Short-eared Owl.  Washington State 2026.

Perhaps more than most years, I am excited over this season of renewal, of the mental reset that comes with growth, new life, and a growing sense of vitality. The past four-plus months have been difficult for someone who always wants to be on the move. Winter colds, a few surgeries, and a general lack of energy have kept me close to home and definitely off the road. This morning’s walk was one of the first times I felt confident handling an energetic dog in a long while. Healing, finally! With the advent of longer days, warmth, and the promise of new life, I am once again ready to experiment with longer trips and get back to the wild lands that I love.

Common Pheasant!  Washington State 2026.

I am so lucky to live in an absolutely beautiful place. When I cannot travel, I can simply walk out my door and stare into the surrounding forest of Douglas fir, hemlocks, and cedar to feel renewed. But still, I want to immerse myself again in deep wilderness, to catch that special moment watching new-born cubs and fawns in first light, to find beauty in moving water as it rushes over falls and heads to the ocean. All possible in this spring season!

Mallard!  Washington State 2026.

Spring brings hope. And I know I need that now more than ever! After a winter of personal health issues, wars, aggression, inflation, and a growing lack of compassion, I am hoping this spring will bring change. An adjustment and improvement of my heath for sure, but so much more is needed…. a full reboot and a fresh introspection of who we are…. personally, nationally, as neighbors, and as co-inhabitants of this one-earth.

Wetland Reflection!  Washington State 2026.

As an individual, as someone who loves wildlands and the natural world, I cannot be silent. In this new season, I will work harder and locally where my actions can have a larger impact. I will not be complacent on those decisions that affect health and water, land and air, and I won’t back down as we lose our parks and national heritage (and the historic – maybe no longer? – attraction for more than fourteen million international visitors each year). If nothing else, I will continue to share the beauty and wonder of nature through my photographs and stories, to inspire others through the beauty of nature.

Airbourne! Short Eared Owl.  Washington State 2026.

I will try, each morning as I walk down my road, to remember that with spring comes renewal, reset, growth, and change. I’ll  remind myself that I can make a difference, and I will listen to the words of my favorite authors, and gather my strength and patience, and keep whittling away like the water and wild rivers that I love.

“Wild rivers are earth's renegades, defying gravity, dancing to their own tunes, resisting the authority of humans, always chipping away, and eventually always winning.”

Richard Bangs

“Let us pause and listen and gather our strength with grace, and move forward like water in all of its manifestations – flat water, white water, rapids and eddies – and flood this country with an integrity of purpose and patience and persistence capable of cracking stone.”

Terry Tempest Williams