no words. just images.

have i mentioned how much i love lake superior?

my sister helen and i went to great sand bay one afternoon to take pictures. the water seemed astonishingly warm. i don’t recall that side of the lake ever getting warm in all the years i lived there. i only remember icy waters. not that lake superior ever really got that warm anywhere – i was much tougher skinned then and could actually swim in cold water – but that was definitely one of the colder sections.

(the thought of icy waters reminds me of a time i jumped into devil’s washtub, down the way from great sand bay, one fourth of july. i don’t know a good way to describe devil’s washtub, except to say that it’s on a rocky cliff side of the lake and there is a hole, surrounded by rock, with an opening near the bottom where the lake comes in and out. that day, i jumped in without checking the water temperature first. it was so cold that when i hit the water, i couldn’t breathe, and i bobbed up and down in the water, slightly panicking and trying desperately to catch my breath so i could climb out again.)

it’s a warm april afternoon in marrakech.

helen and i are sitting at an outdoor table near the main square, our suitcases and bags piled all around us, eating lunch before our flight. our table is on an outside corner, next to the main street and a small side street.

i look up from my meal to see two peacocks in a bike basket right next to me.

i am so astonished that it feels a little surreal and i keep staring, as if to assure myself that they really are peacocks.

the peacocks are sitting in a basket on the back of the bike. they are facing the back and their feathers are stretched across the bike seat and over the handlebars.

there is a little old man in a rumpled suit, holding the bicycle upright and talking to two policeman. i have no idea what any of them are saying but the policeman look rather astonished themselves.

the peacocks look remarkably calm, given that they are sitting on the back of a bicycle and there are people and noise and commotion all around them. they do not, however, look very happy.

as the man leaves the policemen and walks around the corner with his bicycle, some children stop him to look at the peacocks. as he walks off again, they look a little ruffled (the peacocks, not the children), and i see the man reach his hand back and gently, lovingly, absentmindedly pet them as he walks off with his precious cargo.

it was the most unexpectedly delightful scene.

i’m sorry i don’t have a picture, but you can see why i might have forgotten to pull my iphone out. it’s not every day that you look up from your lunch to see peacocks in a bicycle basket.

i love my little niece so much i can hardly stand it.

i wish she lived here. i would take her to story hour and to the children’s museum and she could chase atlas all around the house and pull his tail. sniffle.

i made up a song for her: “oh, savannah, oh don’t you cry for me, for i’ve come from portland, oregon, to hold you on my knee.”

i also have a new nephew, who i met, but i forgot to ask his mom if she cared if i posted a picture of him. i did start a story for him, though. it is the story of prince lars, who went out one day with a very large sword to hunt dragons but somehow came home with one instead because it was so cute. he let his dragon light the fire in his fireplace every night with his fiery breath. (at that point, i had to stop the story, because that was not where i thought it was going at all and i was very confused.)

savannah also has her own story. in case you’ve forgotten, it is the story of queen savannah, who rode her pony named mustard around the island of molasses every morning and decreed that all the little girls on the island would be princesses. people came from all over the world to see the herd of princesses on ponies following queen savannah and mustard around the island and they even ended up as a feature article in national geographic.

did i mention that i love love love her?