We followed a trail along the shore, leading behind the ancient, ramshackle storage sheds and rotting wharfs otherwise accessible only by water. It is a mere thread of a pathway, precariously perched on a bank between the shore and the railway, crossing creeklets and small gullies on assorted single-plank "bridges", often mended with whatever materials were on hand.
Flowers underfoot: two layers of ragged carpet reinforce rotting boards over a muddy spot.
New plank over walkway to final shed on path.
It's just a way to get to the parking lot, a necessity not considered by the first residents, one hundred and more years ago. No-one worries about tidying it up; the government plans to pave the banks and fill in the slough in a year or so, anyhow. But Mother Nature herself is busy with her flower garden here.
Bleeding heart, just opening up.
Another bleeding heart. Because they're beautiful.
Horsetail; look at those elegant borders on the sections of the dried stalks!
I don't know what this is. Do you?
And the inevitable spring salmonberry blossoms.
On the way back, we stopped at the cattail marsh to wait for a train to go by. Along the fence, chickadees and house finches came and went. I caught this courting pair:
Look closely, or click on this to see it full size: see the offering in his beak? Nesting material!
The redwing blackbirds were busy in the cattails. We got dozens of shots of this male, all in impossible positions. The female did pose, briefly, where we had a clear view. A distant view, over by the boathouses, but clear.