Loping languorously to Lopez, lopping off miles like volunteer oaks in a lily garden, our eleven saplings sprung out of Ebey ebulliently. Not ones to wither with a whisper of weather, whether wind, water, whatever, moods stayed light like feathers, fluttering ever wetter though unfettered towards a park picnic and bike repair.
*
We pared down shifting issues, upgrading cables for a pittance at Skagit Cycles. Precipitation pattered persistently as if it were a veteran door to door vacuum salesperson, but we pedaled apace as fighter pilots roared overhead to Whidbey Naval Air Station, two apiece every ten seconds.
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The roads were choked like unsuspecting homeowners who answered a knock to have a vacuum salesperson toss a can of dirt onto the foyer rug, cluttered as they were with summer motorists. Undaunted, we truly passed Deception Pass, got the scoop on an ice cream emporium while others dug some volleyball, then caught the Anacortes ferry by the hair of a newborn piglet.
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Unidentified cetaceans bobbed in passing ship wakes, though we believe they porpoisely remained finonymous. Blubbering back to shore, we floated the final five fathoms to our lovely campsite, fanned a fire from foggy air and grilled up some fabulous faux-angus burgers.
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We anticipate a calm, slightly drier day of gazing at glassy water and forested rocks jutting out of swirling sapphire like sea glass, tempered with cafe sipping, book browsing, and a slow drip of summer time by the beach. Each grain of sand a memory shaped by the elements, a tiny jewel of light in the chandelier of life.
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