We live a half mile to the west of what is generally considered to be the most beautiful coastal drive in the Pacific Northwest. It’s a winding road, just two lanes, with stunning views of the San Juan Islands around every curve. I drive this road pretty much every day, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.
In this part of the world, there’s a definitive sign of spring, and today — the last day of February in this leap year — I saw it. Coming around a corner I had my first sighting of a middle aged man in a two-seat convertible with the top down. On beautiful summer days I have had up to twenty-seven sightings of this particular species during one fifteen minute drive, but the first one is always special. This one was bald, and wore sunglasses. Thus I mark the calendar.