Birdboy left and my life’s without color

Today is Friday. My birdboy left yesterday on the 5pm ferry. He’s gone for another year, and I’m grey.


We had a day of fun: cast-iron farm breakfast of ham, eggs and potatoes, coveting an electric smoker at the thrift compound near Roche Harbor, a beautiful hike along the island’s edge where we saw nice things in tidepools, running past the stench of a rotting deer, last minute scoldings, and some yummy Mexican food.


But all good things must come to an end, so…

I took off from the ferry landing, dropped off some magazines at the magazine exchange outside the hardware store, then spun the 3 miles or so back from the ferry landing to my yellow water tower, where I trudged up the stairs, plonked down, and felt sad.

To keep myself busy, I took pictures of saffron for a new project I’m working on, details to be announced soon. Then I started researching grad programs and did some reading and made some comforting hot chocolate and ate too many Cadbury eggs — the kind with the candy pastel shell.

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