Easter Daffodils

I sit here, 3 1/2 hours after buying our tickets, at the ferry terminal cafe with my boyfriend of 2 years, 8 months and 13 days, awaiting still the next ferry to one of the Gulf Islands, due to arrive 1 1/2 hours from now. I should have known by now that this is what happens when you are exactly 10 minutes late for a ferry that has only a sparse amount of sailings per day, and the person of whom has dropped you off, has left, driving half an hour to slip beneath warm comfort in blue flowered pajamas once again today.

Oh the ferries. How they remind me so much of ice cream, Greek salad, Subway, swimming, pier jumping, pranks, music, children and laughter. The only way to get to camp is by taking at least one ferry, but in my case two because I live on this little rock I call home. I have trained, volunteered , and worked at camp for the past 3 summer, and I will be going back yet again at the end of far-away June. With this new-found- information, you may have already figured it out. Camp is where my boyfriend and I began courting!

Now, even though I enjoy going to camp, this is not the destination of where the small ferry we are awaiting today will take us. Today after a bowl of noodles, a game of Dutch Blitz, a nap under a ski jacket that covered me from my neck to my toes when I curled up, a shared hot dog and fun with settings on the digital camera, we made our way off the boat and up the steep pavement of Mayne. Our journey was soon to come to an end! With luggage in our arms, and on our backs, we stood with sweat beginning to form until we saw our comfy seats and luggage hungry trunk come around the bend with the boyfriend's brothers heads bobbing to the beat of a song being released through the car speakers.

Finally with our backs leaning against a comfy cushion, we stopped by a local store to pick up a few drinks. We then drove bumpily past a sight of the vast ocean we had just sailed safely over, and soon after I looked out my window in awe, yet again, at the field of green grass and yellow daffodils, with a single tree in the middle, slightly to the right, the perimeter of the beautiful field surrounded by luscious trees and a robin's egg blue sky. Every time I come, I look past the waist high, wooden fence and think, "Wouldn't it be lovely to frolic among those daffodils?"

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