Enter the Bog
Today I finally made it out to the bog. Hylebos Wetlands is a bog, or a wetland filled with peat-
plant life up to 15,000 years old. The accumulation of peat leads to sinkholes, like this 20' one. 
Most of the bogs in this area were mined for their peat, and so Hylebos is one of the few bogs remaining.
The bog reminded me of the refuge I visited with Stacy and her brother back in July- but
wetter.
As you approach you drive by some of the oldest buildings in the Puget Sound, log cabins going back to the 1880's.
My brother Kent and I walked through the dark woods after this recent storm, the air filled with dampness and life. Birds twittered all around us, though the only sign of animal life we saw was a splash in the pond. It is like from a movie dark and dreary, with moss creeping down around you, and overgrowth
everywhere. We talked, and walked in silence, on boards with matting so that you don't slip, interspersed with flooded walkways from the 
recent storms.
Everywhere water is dripping, transpiring, filling the ground and rising up, alive. You can feel
the age of the place. And even in the death, there is life. Trees as knowledgable as the Ents but taller, grow, age, and die, roots exposed, progressing through stages of rot, until finally they become the fertilized f
oundation of new saplings.
plant life up to 15,000 years old. The accumulation of peat leads to sinkholes, like this 20' one. Most of the bogs in this area were mined for their peat, and so Hylebos is one of the few bogs remaining.The bog reminded me of the refuge I visited with Stacy and her brother back in July- but
wetter.
As you approach you drive by some of the oldest buildings in the Puget Sound, log cabins going back to the 1880's.My brother Kent and I walked through the dark woods after this recent storm, the air filled with dampness and life. Birds twittered all around us, though the only sign of animal life we saw was a splash in the pond. It is like from a movie dark and dreary, with moss creeping down around you, and overgrowth
everywhere. We talked, and walked in silence, on boards with matting so that you don't slip, interspersed with flooded walkways from the 
recent storms.Everywhere water is dripping, transpiring, filling the ground and rising up, alive. You can feel
the age of the place. And even in the death, there is life. Trees as knowledgable as the Ents but taller, grow, age, and die, roots exposed, progressing through stages of rot, until finally they become the fertilized f
oundation of new saplings.
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