Sunrise over Skagit Bay (1.17.26)
At sunrise, the sky clears completely, and the estuary quiets just enough to feel expansive. Snow geese lift in distant groups, spread across the water rather than clustered close, while trumpeter swans pass through in small flights. Raptors trace wide arcs overhead, working the same feeding patterns seen at dusk. Bird activity remains constant, driven less by the hour than by opportunity.
Standing at sea level on the Skagit Bay estuary, the view opens in every direction. To the west, the Olympic Mountains settle into the horizon across the bay. Turning south, the faint silhouette of Mount Rainier rests far off, barely breaking the line between land and sky. To the southeast, Mount Pilchuck rises closer, its snow catching the first light, while farther east and northeast the North Cascades stretch toward Mount Baker.
The birds move continuously through this space—snow geese lifting in distant groups, swans passing through, raptors circling higher up—active at both ends of the day, feeding and repositioning as the tide and light change. Nothing here transforms overnight. The landscape holds steady. What shifts is clarity, angle, and attention, revealing the same estuary in different states of use.
