Has it become a summer ritual? Queue up the car. Pay the ferry and cross the choppy waters. Disembark and roll down the windows. Turn right and follow the island’s loose curves for three miles. Look for the wafts of smoke drift across the road. The same journey every year offers a total escape with each visit.
Crisp air. Overflowing greens brush along the roadside. Red, blue, and pink dots pop in the brush. A kaleidoscope of buoys pop even brighter on Legoe Bay. Purple starfish crawl in the tide pools. A brilliant blue sky hugs the world. And on some nights, just before dusk, black and white orcas breach the still waters.
“When the trees are gone the sky will fall and we and the salmon will be no more,” reads an ancient Lummi prophesy, but the waves might continue to crash. Water is always the background – the island’s natural rhythm and heartbeat. On a sunny summer day, every view has a twinkle of light cast from the water. Of boats and birds bobbing. Of seaweed cast back and forth. Of entire schools swimming just under the waves.
This is the annual backdrop for two summer meals on Lummi Island.