It has been a while since we've gone to Orcas, the magic a little depleted by a series of small interpersonal earthquakes out there two Thanksgivings ago. But the island was still there, just like it's been for all this time, gathering beauty and calm.
So when the car we were riding in broke down before we could make it to the ferry, in a pocket of road without cell phone reception, it seemed reasonable to at least consider just up and living there forever. There aren't any simple ways to get to or from the ferry or out of Anacortes on the other side, but we could probably find shelter and make enough driftwood art to live off of. Until the next big idea came around, at least. Until someone noticed we were missing and came looking for us.
While we waited for the tow truck to arrive we watched two bald eagles wheeling above the trees. Not hunting, from what we could tell. Just dancing.