Courtesy of Embrace Whidbey and Catano Islands

Rivulets streamed down the inside of my head-to-toe rain gear.

It was the start of the rainy season, and I was seeking solitude on Whidbey Island.

But it shouldnt be.

The wooded coastline of Whidbey Island, Washington

Deception Pass State Park.Credit:Courtesy of Embrace Whidbey and Catano Islands

It was a dramatic entrance, with the fog thick and the rain coming down in sheets.

Belathee Photography/Courtesy of Captain Whidbey

This was my first plane trip since the pandemic.

The trees were no defense against the rain, but I was already soaked and had ceased to care.

Pair of photos from the Captain Whidbey, one showing a seafood hut and one showing two people floating in inner tubes

From left: The seafood shack at the inn; guests floating in Penn Cove.Belathée Photography/Courtesy of Captain Whidbey

I clambered across rocky outcroppings until I came to a clearing.

And it was there that I spotted the first seal.

I wrapped my still-damp body in a wool blanket and took in the view.

Pair of photos from the Captain Whibey hotel in Washington, one showing salmon on a salad and one showing a fireplace in a cabin

From left: Salmon with salad at the Captain Whidbey; a cabin with a fireplace.Belathée Photography/Courtesy of Captain Whidbey; Lexi Ribar/Courtesy of Captain Whidbey

A great blue heron stood stock-still on the hotels long dock.

I was amazed by its ability to stay motionless.

Back in my cabin, I took a hot bath and fell into a long sleep.

A blue shiplap wall decorated with paintings of a ship captain

An art-filled cabin at the Captain Whidbey.Lexi Ribar/Courtesy of Captain Whidbey

Lexi Ribar/Courtesy of Captain Whidbey

In the morning, I took my coffee on the balcony.

The heron was there again.

(Had it been there all night?)

The exterior off a hotel showing the gardens and a reflecting pool

The Inn at Langley.Courtesy of The Inn at Langley

The day unfolded slowly and blessedly free of plans.

I spent the morning at the 151-acreGreenbank Farm, which has a cafe and miles of dog-friendly trails.

Luckily, it was only a 15-minute drive to the sleepy village of Coupeville.

I returned to the Captain Whidbey to find it still on the dock.

My room was flooded with light and had unobstructed views of Puget Sound.

I made an afternoon of soaking in the tub and cooling off in the briny air of my balcony.

A trio of older women emerged from the sound in cold-water wet suits.

I woke to sunshine on my final morning.

The sun was so bright I could hardly see the goldeneyes, grebes, and sandpipers through my binoculars.

I wanted to stay, but I had a ferry to catch.

Strange, how being far away can bring about a feeling of homecoming.

Like that heron, I needed to return to my community, my family, my perch.