We didn’t move here because of this lovely claptrap house that sits on the hill.  We didn’t buy this place because we want to spend the next two years skinning our knuckles while repairing the splintery deck.  Nor do we particularly enjoy stepping on carpenter ants in the bathroom.  Or the crappy wood paneling that covers every surface like wallpaper.

No.  We moved here to look out our window and see the ocean.  To go outside and smell it in the wind.  To not have to get up at the crack of butt cheese just so we can miss heavy traffic on the way to work in the morning.  There are no traffic lights on Orcas Island, because there really is no traffic.  Once I went to the grocery store and there were two cars in front of me and one behind.  That’s about as heavy as it gets.

This is what we see when we look out the window.  The water has distinct textures and color that doesn’t always come out in a photograph.  Sometimes it’s glassy, sometimes it’s choppy, sometimes you can follow the currents and waves as they roll across.  Sunrises are pure gold.  Sunsets are a tapestry of gemstones.  Every night, you can hear the waves crash on the shore.