This has been a summer of chasing each other and chasing whales.
I mean both quite literally. You and Eliza have gained a lot of foot speed. You claimed recently that you’re faster than me, likely confused by the games of tag around the playground where I can’t bend beneath every slide. I challenged you to a foot race to the mailbox the other day and smoked you just to settle the argument. Eliza is also a faster runner than you, for the moment, and gaining the upper hand in the water. I’m not sure how much longer I can beat her in a pool race. I won’t be able to hold the land or water speed titles for much longer.
With all the time spent at Harstine Island and near Fox Island, your Mom has picked up a new passion of tracking killer whales, also known as orcas. A few times now, your Mom has looked up suddenly from her phone and said, “There are orcas by Fox Island bridge!” or “There are orcas at Pickering Passage!” And as if she pulled a fire alarm, we drop everything, march out the door and head to our destination.
I haven’t been fortunate enough to see them but you and Eliza had a couple enounters these past weeks, once from the Harstine Island boat launch and again from a stand-up paddleboard off our community beach at Hartstene Pointe. Your Mom caught the second event on video, and you can be seen and heard screaming in delight while bagpipes played in the background, allegedly calling the orcas.
I wish I was there, but I didn’t have to be. What makes me happy is knowing that you get to have these experiences because of where and how your Mom and I raise you. That’s the good stuff.
Keep chasing whales. While you’re looking, I’ll knot your shoelaces so you can’t beat me at the next race.
Love, Dad