August 1, 2025 by Bridgette

Photography: Troll Hunting

Part of our summer trip included searching for Thomas Dambo’s giant wooden trolls. Let me tell you, these incredible sculptures do not disappoint. Not only are they breathtakingly beautiful, but they are enormous!

Thomas Dambo has crafted over 170 creations all over the world. If your curious if one is near you, here’s a wonderful Trollmap. We only visited two trolls this trip, but we will try again soon.

Now, come with me into the forest to meet Bruun Idun and Pia the Peacekeeper.

From Thomas Dambo:

“In the night, there was a storm, there at the beach where she was born
And Idun felt a feeling wrong, and so she walked there in the dawn
And in a flute, the magic horn, a tune so passionate and strong
She played for them an orca song to ask them where they all had gone“

Brunn Idun stands on the shoreline playing her flute to the Orca’s to ask them why they have all left the Pugeut Sound. Her flute was made by artist, John Halliday Aka Coyote from the Muckleshoot Tribe. On August 25th, the Mayor of Seattle, Bruce A. Harrel, declared it “Brunn Idun Day”. This special recognition celebrates Bruun Idun’s and the Trolls’ contributions to our collective stewardship environmental management, water protection, repairing habitat restoration, preservation and conservation. Every August 25th is Bruun Idun Day.

From Thomas Dambo:

“Pretty pretty please, let’s keep the peace beneath the trees
Hold you in my hand I will remind you with a squeeze
Quiet little people cause your criers make me tired
Pia likes to play with people, people they keep quiet“

Pia likes to play with the people beneath the trees, and she likes it when it’s not too noisy.

These photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW.

August 28, 2024 by Bridgette

Photography: Generational Woods

Mom said she wanted witchy photos in the woods. She wanted to dance in the moonlight and howl. She wanted pointy hats and dark makeup. She wanted her vision of us to be captured forever.

What she didn’t say is generational pain lives in our bones and she wants us to be free. She didn’t say mortality knocks and time moves oh so quickly. She didn’t say let’s be stronger, my dearies, and stop letting others control our happiness. She didn’t have to.

Mom said she wanted witchy photos in the woods. I gave them to her, minus the hats.

This is for you Mom, the one who gives and loves so big, who taught me to be strong, and who carries so much and still laughs. I hope you like the photos and know how much you are loved.

“You’re breaking generational curses. That’s why this doesn’t come easy for you. You’re who your bloodline has been waiting for.” —unknown

These photos are of my mom, my daughter, and me. All photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW, except the last one and it’s a screenshot from a small video I took on my iPhone 13. My talented daughter took the photos I’m in.

April 14, 2013 by Bridgette

Summer’s coming

I discovered a love of camping last year. This isn’t something I did growing up, but I wanted to give it to my children.

There is something magical about building a little homestead away from home. Finding the right spot to put the tent. Smoothing out the tarp, unrolling and positioning the tent and driving in the stakes. Listening to the kids run wild and find treasures. Making our little beds all cozy and warm. Gathering wood.

We hike, swim, eat and play. There are chores, but they seem so less mundane in this other world. Watching my boy start the fire. Smelling the sweet smoke and feeling it sting my eyes, as it seems to follow me wherever I sit. Marshmallow goo stuck on both of their faces they run around screaming until the woods embrace them and they find their calm again.

The boy whittles wood. The girl makes fairy houses and crowns.

We are alive. Connected.

Cuddling together in the tent the giggles start. They reposition themselves over and over and we laugh until our sides hurt. Then I read our special goodnight book, “Step Into the Night” by Joanne Ryder. We listen for the sounds outside the tent. Crickets. Water. People talking. Laughter. Campfires. Life.

I’ve never “really camped,” I’ve been told. Never having backpacked into the middle of nowhere. Never having felt the isolation and wonder of being alone in the woods. Someday. Maybe.

We always camp with and near another people. We can usually see our car. It’s not perfect.

Dad stays home. He hates camping and no amount of being sad and longing will change that. So we go without him. It makes me heartbroken that he will miss out on this time with our kids. It often brings me to tears, but it’s not changing. So, I except what is and we go without.

I get VERY grouchy during the packing. Preparing the meals, gathering all the clothes, camping gear and packing the car. It turns me into a crazy person running around yelling at the kids that WE WILL NOT GO IF YOU DON’T HELP. I stress about all the details and feel like canceling about 1,200 times during this part.

Once the car is packed and we get in, I can breathe. Calmness washes over me. We take our “on the road again” picture. We are a team. We talk, laugh and sing. Looking forward. Moving forward.

As I start planning our summer camping trips I can’t help but be excited. Leaving the daily school commute behind. Saying goodbye to just seeing my kids before and after school. No more rushing to karate class and yelling at them to get up in the morning.

I will yell. Get stressed out. Cry that they are driving me crazy. But I would not change our summers together for anything. They are not perfect, but they are ours. Only 61 days until school is out. I can’t wait.