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Cyndi and I visited the Olympic National Park, Dungeness Spit, Cape Flattery, and the Olympic Peninsula in northwestern Washington this summer. I saw a new life bird there, the Rhinoceros Auklet.
I saw many Heerman's Gulls.
Our favorite bird, though, has to be the characterful puffins. The puffins there are the Tufted Puffins. I had never seen one this close before!
We spent an enjoyable day hiking on Dungeness Spit, and this view shows the lighthouse at the tip of the spit with Mount Rainier in the distance.
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Here is a veiw of the spit. It is about five miles out to the lighthouse.
We also went to the Hoh rainforest.
Moss covers everything in this area where there can be about 180 inches of rain every year.
We also stopped at a few of the many beaches on the Pacific coast. The beaches further north were composed of cobblestones.
There were not very many people out in the early morning.
Driftwood was piled high, and this particular image caused me to imagine animal faces looking out to sea.
Further south, the beaches become broad expanses of soft sand.
This trail to the beach winds through a grove of Sitka Spruce, and many of them have burls growing on them.
The sandy coastline goes on for miles, and camping is allowed on many of the beaches.
Pearly Everlasting grew at the edge of the sand.
There were interesting bits of shells left behind by the receding tide.
Cyndi, Jennifer and I all went together to Shore Acres. It's an arboretum and botanical garden set on a high cliff above one of the most spectacular shorelines I've ever witnessed. (Not as nice as the Atlantic Ocean, where I grew up, of course ... but quite good for the Pacific.) Here is a pond at the arboretum ... just on the far side is a wonderful view of the ocean!
This Black Phoebe was foraging for insects.
Here's the view of a sandy beach from high on the rocky headland. It looks like there may be a cave on the south side.
We walked down to the sandy beach. The sedimentary geology was uplifted at a 45-degree angle.
Here's a close view of that rock jutting into the sea at such an angle.
It almost seemed like there was a basalt layer in there, as I was reminded of the pillow lava from the edge of the sea in Hawaii. 
The waves were crashing in, creating that soothing rhythmic heartbeat, and the warm sun on a 70-degree day was a delightful relief from the hot summer back home in Idaho.
My sister Jennifer explored the cave and proclaimed it went further into the darkness than the eye could see.
OK, this one is just a nice portrait of my best sister ever. (Thanks for driving over to the ocean to meet us and help celebrate my birthday, Jennifer!)
At sunset, after Jennifer headed homeward to her work obligations, Cyndi and I returned to the overlook and walked along the trail on the headlands. Do you see the small figures, two people on the next promontory? It is difficult to convey the scale of this scene, but the people help.
At low tide the kelp were exposed. Cyndi saw some Black Oystercatchers, but I didn't get a photo this time.
The warm evening light highlighted the strange geology.
The park closes just after sunset, and here it is, the great ball of the sun sinking into the offshore fog.
