Although I miss the salty waves and bobbing around in the swell, I have fallen in love with swimming in lakes. Lakes are something we have an abundance here on beautiful Fidalgo Island. There are like ten. So far, my favorite is Trafton (pictured above). I was told that it is very magical and I believe it. It was made by a meteor. The water is the color of rust. Much darker than any of the other lakes.

But isn’t this an island, you ask, isn’t there ocean surrounding you on all sides? Well, yes, that is true, but it is not like La Jolla Cove with its rhythmic waves and tickling Garibaldi. The ocean is more like a bay—and it is very cold—even for Lynne Cox, maybe. There is one “swimming” beach nearby though, it is waist deep forever:

Come May 1, 2009 we are moving out of the desert and into an old fire station near the forest of the snow owl (see B). Eagles will rest on our shoulders as we pick wild berries and we will learn great truths from the ferny depths. There will be mushrooms and ocean and cool dudes on motorcycles. We may meet this friend. There will most def be lots of musics and “art” and references to these symbols:

Department of Safety! (We are going to live there.)

We must heed the call of the mountains.

GET SOME WHILE YOU CAN. We are.