Who are all these people?

Our springy days of last week felt more like the beginning of summer to me. Suddenly we had T-shirt weather and, in conjunction with some amazing clam tides, hordes of tourists arrived. (Yes, I know we need them…) So things around town seemed slightly otherworldly.

Two cars or more at a stop sign is sure to start locals whining — I know I do. I found myself in Jack’s Country Store looking around and recognizing not one single person. Then, as a nice antidote, there appeared to be a summit of locals in the produce aisle: Jeanine Grey, of KMUN jazz fame; Nanci Main, chef extraordinaire; Betsy Millard, Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum collections manager; and Jack’s staff members and friends Monica Norelius and Hans May (with a produce cart full of avos) all arrived at the same time. We paused briefly with one another to catch up on the news. Then we shoppers went back to the lines at the check-out stand and I just had to say it, “Who are all these people?”

The solar storm bringing amazing aurora borealis colors didn’t help one bit. Every night last weekend there were monster trucks traversing the Bay Avenue beach approach heading north, driving too fast, tearing up the beach sands and blinding everybody with high beams. OK, I agree. I’ve turned into an old-fogey curmudgeon. Best to just stay home and sip tea, or one’s drink of choice.

No Mow May and bee-washing

Or just piddle around in the garden. This year, again, I am participating in “No Mow May,” which is turning out to be controversial. There seems to be online conversation on both sides of the issue. I loved one set of comments by someone called ‘neylon,’ “No-mow May could potentially be a ‘gateway drug’ for people to get them away from the need to have a pristine chemical filled lawn.” (So that’s good, right?) But then he/she/they went on to say, “My big problem with it is that I have heard No-mow May, clover lawns, and the like, touted as this salvation for pollinators. This worries me, as it sounds like trying to use a band aid as a tourniquet. People thinking that a couple weeks of dandelions and non-native clover fixes the enormous habitat loss and puts No-mow May very much into the ‘bee-washing’ realm.’”

Which sent me back to the internet. What the heck is bee-washing? “’Bee-washing’ refers to a form of greenwashing in which bee-related marketing is used to promote certain products and services, or improve companies’ public images which can spread misinformation about ways to save pollinators.” Now you know. This all illustrates what a tangle of information exists in the world right now. Holy moly, even more reason to sit in a chair and watch the day go by.

Which I just did — in the sun, contemplating my “No Mow May” jungle which in a couple short weeks I’ll have to figure out how to tame back into something resembling a front yard.

Ilwaco’s Saturday Market

In the meantime there’s lots of other stuff to do — which is always the case as summer blooms. This past weekend was the first Saturday Market in Ilwaco. (Astoria’s Sunday Market started too.) A friend and I decided to check it out, and though we needed one more layer of clothing than we at first anticipated, finally the day turned warm and the people watching was spectacular.

Pull Quote

There were big dogs, small dogs, tall dogs, tiny dogs, fat dogs, furry dogs, sleek dogs, nasty dogs, funny dogs, and sunning dogs.

I’m not exactly sure of the ratio, but I think it wouldn’t be far wrong to say that 50% of the humans at the port had dogs. Or did dogs outnumber the humans? — perhaps in size of personality at least. There were big dogs, small dogs, tall dogs, tiny dogs, fat dogs, furry dogs, sleek dogs, nasty dogs, funny dogs, and sunning dogs. (Male dogs are often friendlier than their female counterparts, but of course male dogs need to mark everything. And if one marks something, a second dog has to remark it. As one fellow noted, “Okay, you’ve both peed on it — it’s good to go!”)

The market featured the usual suspects: shave ice, cinnamon rolls, vinegars, hot dogs, lots of craft booths, flowers and plants, live music in the pavilion, a couple coffee spots, a bustling outdoor patio at Salt, Marie and Randy Powell holding court at their gallery, open doors at Time Enough Books and Don Nisbett’s whimsical art shop. Asparagus is in season but it was too early for other fresh produce. Everyone was strolling and smiling, stopping to taste or admire, talking in groups in the sun, or trying to get out of the wind.

As we sat watching the crowd, the charter boat Katie Marie docked. Two fisheries officials met the boat and boarded with check lists. It looked from our vantage point that everyone was happy with their catch (two metal totes were wheeled up the ramp). Everyone shook hands and the day progressed apace.

Quaker wedding

The weekend ended with a very special event on Mother’s Day: the wedding of two amazing and big-hearted people — Robin Markham and Fred Stewart. Twenty-six of us gathered at the Timberland Library meeting room for the usual Sunday morning Quaker meeting (some piping themselves in via Zoom). But this meeting was made special because as part of the gathering Robin and Fred bound themselves to one another. (No one is “given away” in a Quaker wedding.)

A Quaker meeting begins and ends with silence. During this contemplative time, what first struck me was the clock in the library meeting room audibly ticking away the seconds. Because I’ve had some recent medical challenges, I’ve been made more aware of the body I inhabit (something we all take for granted unless some trouble shooting is needed). And, of course, then, how precious is our time on earth.

How grateful I felt to be alive, to be with this particular group of people on this beautiful day, to witness the loving kindness and commitment Robin and Fred have vowed to each other, and how simply and beautifully they pledged themselves to love. Sometimes pure joy can hit at unexpected times. And tears can come for sharing the most basic human pleasures — holding a friend’s hand, giving a hug, eating chocolate wedding cake!