After decades in arid Colorado, I’ve happily adjusted to living a smidgen above sea level, in the upper left corner of Washington state.  My eccentric cedar house caps a bluff overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

At night the lights of Victoria, British Columbia dance across the water and, come daylight, the San Juan Islands, Mount Baker and other quiet volcanos appear and vanish with the clouds.

I'm thrilled every time a bald eagle lands on a tree nearby.

Facing the living water, with the snow-capped Olympic Mountains as a backdrop, I live in companionship with the natural world. I admit to being a bit provincial -- Earth is my favorite planet.

My grandparents were environmentalists, before that was even a word and I was coached in composting, and taught to respect the rivers, streams and lakes.

"Use it up or wear it out, make it do or do without" was a motto Grandma lived by. Today it's called living simply. They were activists, in their own quiet way, and I like to believe I'm following in their footsteps when I take part in events like National Climate Action Day.