Richard Olmer

No, this isn't December, the colors (of the deer) are wrong. But it is at the National Wildlife Refuge at Dungeness Spit, a place where I often wander. And it's unexpected when you are walking alone and you look up and realize that you're not alone.

These two deer surprised me one day, not out on the spit itself but walking under the bluffs that supply the stuff of which the spit is built. That's especially true during the winter; the bluffs shed more in winter.

Winter is magic down here. The beach doesn't stay the same very long.

The folks who visit the spit in summer see a different sort of place than it is in winter. In the summer, you'd hardly ever surprise anyone walking along the beach like these two.

You'd probably not believe that even out at the Dungeness Lighthouse, a friend and I saw a coyote trotting down the beach in the daylight. Down near McDonald Creek, I've seen river otters playing on the beach. That's not too far from where this picture was taken. These two with two others were on the beach this day; they bounded up the bluffs with ease when they decided to leave me alone.



Spit harbors seals

Most visitors to the spit and even some of those who live here might be surprised that we had an elephant seal making his home on the spit for a few years. And, of course, there are some harbor seals around and some just plain old seals.

Everybody comes here to see the birds and there are a lot of different kinds to see. I'm not very adept at bird-watching; my eyes are not so good.

My friends always try to point out the different types of gulls and ducks to me; it's kind of like looking at deer: they're deer. I can tell a deer from an elk or a moose, if one were around; but most birds are a challenge to me.

I like the oystercatchers because they're big enough for me to see and their bills

are unique. They're like eagles, they're hard to miss.

I can even see eagles from my own driveway. They sit in the tops of trees and watch the golfers tee off. I can hardly wait for the day when one of these guys swoops down and grabs a golf ball as it sails down the fairway.



More critters

than people

It's a great place to live. I can often hear the waves crashing against the bluffs at high tide when I'm picking up my paper. Just this afternoon, I almost was run over by two young deer bounding down the neighbors' driveway headed right for me.

I was distracted by a beautiful pheasant someone had released in the county park, but this bird was smart enough to move up the hill to live in the bushes next to homes where people didn't want to hear shotgun blasts. This particular bird spends about two hours a day teasing my cats, who see him strutting across the backyard.

There is something pretty neat about living in a place just a mile from a wildlife refuge, less than two miles from the water, less than 20 miles from a foreign country and close to Costco. The truth is that I see more wildlife than people on a typical day at home.

Of course, I used to work in a national capital that was once a swamp and was designed by a famous Frenchman. "Life is good!" I used to have a good friend close by who would remind me of this; he was silly enough to move to Georgia!



Richard Olmer can be reached at columnists@

sequimgazette.com.