Photography: The Shelburne Hotel

One of the highlights of our recent trip was spending a night in the longest continuously operating hotel in Washington State, The Shelburne Hotel. After a few difficult days and missed connections, this place waited for us like a refuge.

It was our third time visiting and my first time staying in the most haunted room. You can read about our earlier experiences here:

An overturned truck on the freeway delayed our arrival, and we checked in 20 minutes before the small bar closed. I had been hoping to write in the bar drinking a cocktail called the Bee’s Knees, but instead only scribbled a few poetry lines on a napkin while drinking the renamed cocktail, The Bee Sting. How perfectly fitting for this trip.

The house has two attic bedrooms, both said to be haunted by a spirit named Nina. After our encounter in Room 6, we had been looking forward to what might happen in Room 5. However, after all the stuff the trip had thrown at us, we both felt pretty emotionally drained and just wanted to sleep before making the 10 hour drive home the next day.

The little nook my daughter was going to sleep in had a door in it (photo below) looking way too much like a Coraline door, so we ended up sleeping together in the main bed and blocking that door with the extra pillows.

The room, like most the house, has an old feeling and is filled with quirky things. I put white noise on my phone and collapsed almost immediately, too tired to really take it all in. Around 2 a.m. I woke because my white noise stopped. I looked around the room and saw nothing, but I heard what could only be described as a low moan. It wasn’t coming from my daughter, and I tried to tell my brain it was something outside…maybe a truck? It got louder.

“I can’t do it tonight,” I said out loud to the room. “I’m too sad and tired.”

The sound instantly stopped and the white noise turned back on. I went right back to sleep. It was probably a dream, but I like to think Nina was taking pity on me. The next morning I took a bath in the clawfoot bathtub and took a few photos outside in the beautiful garden.

This is the last photos from our trip, but I have some beach and camping photos coming your way in the next few days. Let me know if you have a favorite photo among these and have a fantastic weekend.


#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

#7

#8

#9

#10

#11

#12

#13

#14

#15

#16

#17

#18

#19

#20

#21

#22

#23
#24
#25

  • These photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW.
  • For booking information, visit the Historic Shelburne Hotel

Poetry: Free Mom Hugs

Past

would you have trusted me more
if I’d known about fingertip sparks
and fluttering hearts?

or if I’d really looked at
tiny pencil drawings on matchboxes and
folded paper napkins?

you’d pass notes I didn’t understand—
messages scrawled on scraps of paper
palm to palm

rainbows hung around your pretty neck;
delicate lovely things refracting light into
everything you did

you left without goodbyes—fleeing rejections 
spurred by fevered religious hate disguised
as family love

you drew naked ladies in Paris
seeing worldly wonders dreaming nightly with
fingertips stained black

floating down stone steps in tailored 
suits you charmed everyone with your
soft blue eyes

returning home sick, thick sketchbook under
heavy arms we talked about everything
but the truth

you left without me seeing you
kiss your lovers, pink-skinned blushing
on ornate bridges

or watching you dance under moonlit
skies with flowers tucked into your
fluffy blonde hair

Present

driving nowhere we sing with windows
down, wind blowing tangles into your
fluffy red hair

I sense something brewing behind quiet
lips, fingers fidget with your many
bright silver rings

with a trembling voice, you say
you like girls—scared of rejection
bare legs shake

you’ve known since kindergarten, but it
wasn’t something you wanted to explore
or talk about

honored, I listen to your deeply
held sacred truths; as you discover 
who you are

my old friend breathes words of 
comfort through me helping me ease
your coming out

grabbing soft hands tightly, I squeeze
three times letting you know my
love remains unchanged

balancing stone words we build together
walls to fight against those who
would seek destruction

inked drawings, musical explorations, the Heartstopper
you share everything with me, showing
me the way

crying at pride, past present swirl
promising to do better armed with
free mom hugs

Street Art in Sacramento, CA

In honor of Pride Month, I dedicate this poem to a dear high school friend who died of AIDS and my beautiful daughter who trusts me with her truth. I reference the show “Heartstopper” on Netflix and can’t recommend it enough for its sweet portrayal of love. Happy Pride Month!