A few things have changed since we last came to Orcas Island, though much of it remains as I remember it. Doe Bay Resort, where we had a class retreat for our music program back in college, got a whole lot bigger and expanded into multiple dwellings and even a cafe. Mark reminded me that some of us went swimming in the cold September waters on a dare during that trip. It was probably the only time I ever went swimming in Washington. I find the water unbearingly frigid and can’t even stand to dip my feet; they immediately go numb. The kids remarked at the difference in water temperature as well, but that didn’t stop them from wading in or swimming in the lake. I don’t know why some memories can be conjured up so clearly while others lurk in the shadows. I can remember how the air smelled during that class trip, how windy and cold it was up on the mountain, and the evenings filled with drums and music in the big retreat house we all stayed in. We drove 2 big school vans up to the ferry, a 3 hour road trip from campus. I don’t know if anyone had a camera. It’s quite possible that no photos of the trip exist. Isn’t that something? A stark contrast to now.
On this trip, we cooked all but one of our meals while on the island and ate them out on the deck on the weathered table: A barbeque, Norwegian-style pancakes with fresh blueberry and huckleberry sauces, zucchini bread, eggs, fennel salad, and quesadillas made with leftover pork from our Hawaiian feast. But the best of all were the crabs and the clams from a local shop that laid traps in the nearby water.
A short walk to the beach is always a good way to start and end the day. When I stand here and remember where I am – on a tiny island on the most northwestern tip of the US – I can’t help but feel like I’m standing at the edge of the earth.