Madrona Point is a beautiful and ecologically fragile 30-acre peninsula south of the village of Eastsound on Orcas Island, Washington. It is considered sacred land by the Lummi Nation and served as their native burial ground. After settlers arrived it became a white and mixed-blood cemetery. In the late 1880s, after a contested sale, the land fell into private ownership. In 1913 it became a resort. In 1967 the point and resort were bought by multi-millionaire Norton Clapp. In 1982 Clapp’s company, Northwest Building Corporation, proposed building 80 condominiums on the point. It would have been biggest development to ever have taken place on Orcas.
Madrona Point is one of my favorite places. At the time, when I heard the news of the planned development, I felt broken hearted at the thought of losing this sacred, natural site. It was then that I committed myself to the cause of purchasing Madrona Point for preservation. In an incredible story with many twist and turns, and through the efforts of many, including the Lummi Tribe, The Church Council of Greater Seattle, William Hearst II, Senators Daniel Inouye and Slade Gorton, and Representative Norm Dicks, we obtained an appropriation from the U.S. Congress for the $2.2 million asking price, purchased Madrona Point, and returned it to the Lummi Nation.
On February 17, 1990, Lummi Leaders and Orcas islanders gathered together in celebration at the Oddfellow’s Hall.
Unfortunately, the 1989 agreement signed by the Lummi Tribe and San Juan County did not include funding for the management of Madrona Point. As a result the burials sites have never been protected and the land itself has not been cared for. As of 2024 a renewed effort to care for the land, and fulfill the 1987 Lummi Vision to build a Cross Cultural Understanding and Heritage Center, is gaining momentum. I write this in the hope that a management plan is agreed to for the sake of the Lummi, for those on Orcas, and for all of our ancestors.
A reflection in the window of a cabin that once was part of a resort on Madrona Point
This unusual close up shows where bark healed over a broken branch. Madrona trees can have live, dead, and dying trunks. The range of colors shown here expresses that complexity.
This group of twisting trunks—the “Dancing Grove”—are all offshoots from a single large stump perched right on the edge of a cliff.
This grove is home to all generations of Madrona trees, from bushes, to youngsters, to elders.
The four juniper trees in this fall scene frame the view south, down East Sound.
In the fall a madrona tree sheds its bark to enable its next layer of growth to emerge.
High noon on a cloudless, windless, summer day colors the waters of East Sound an intense, deep blue, mirroring the serenity of branch, rock, and skyline.
A family of Madrona trees enjoy the warm light of sunset.
Junipers and madrona trees have long taproots that anchor them deep into cliff sides at the water’s edge. When they die at the water’s edge, their salt-bleached trunks can survive for decades.
Madrona Leaves turn beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds as they fall from the tree. This one got caught in the peeling bark of a branch.
This fisheye view shows Madrona Point, Indian Island, and Eastsound, reflected in the quiet, glassy waters of the sound. Mount Constitution, rising above the fog, is just visible in the distance.
Back in the 1980s some friends got permission to get married on Madrona Point. Afterwards, my friend Ron and I were sitting on the dock admiring the deep colors and calm water that so often accompany island summer evenings. He nudged me suggesting I grab my camera. This photo was the result!
The icy blues and slate greys of this cold, December day contrast with the sun’s soft glow.
In the 1980s Madrona Point was threatened with development. The question then was, “Will the community rise to save the heart and soul of Orcas Island?”
A herring ball is a defensive maneuver taken by the fish when predators are nearby. This behavior, normally hidden under the surface of the water, is here revealed by a fortuitous combination of lighting and shallow water.
Contrasts abound in this scene. The near-white sky vs. the dark, spindly branches; the vertical, multi-colored, half-live, half-dead trunks overlaying a horizontal swath of cool, fog-shrouded trees.
A burl is an irregular outgrowth on a tree, with fibers in clusters that form in response to an environmental influence. The contrasting textures and shapes offer the viewer a up-close glimpse of an otherworldly landscape.
Gentle light bathes this ephemeral scene, a melange of warm hues. Here nature creates its own transitory still life.
Springtime on the Point is redolent with thousands of delicate madrona blossoms. By fall they will transform into the beautiful, red berries so loved by local birds.
In the middle of a snowstorm at Eastsound’s Waterfront Park, looking toward Indian Island and Madrona Point, while experimenting with composition, four Canadian geese flew into the frame, making for a magical winter moment.
Standing on a prominent, windswept cliff edge, this ancient fir bleeds tree sap to heal its wounds.