Monday, August 30, 2010

Summer Peak

Saturday at the bus stop. It rained that morning.


The Washington State ferry, Issaquah. At speed the boat sounds like it could shake apart at any moment, yet we never felt at risk. The smells coming out of the commissary were a far bigger threat to our health.


Sunlight on the water beats Prozac for firing up happy neurons.


It should be called Sealth, after the chief Seattle is named for, but white people couldn't pronounce it; instead they named the mountain after Rainier Beer.

2 comments:

Lidian said...

There is nothing better than a ferry ride - it always makes me happy. I love the ferry to Manitoulin Island in northern Ontario. And when I was little we went to the Vineyard (back when it wasn't a wealthy enclave, so a long time ago!) and the ferries were like big wooden tubs :)

You take gorgeous photos, BTW!

James MacAdam said...

Thank you, Lidian! I can still remember the first time setting foot on a ferry, back in the late eighties it was,to cross Elliott Bay for the rustic pleasures of Bainbridge Island, which is an unrecognized colony of wordsmiths and possible source, I'm tempted to wonder, of my writerly inclination.