“It still feels like a miracle,” I said to Frank this morning as I sipped my tea and stared across the sparkling water of Rich Passage, a section of Puget Sound that runs between our new island home and the distant shore of mainland Washington.
It’s been seven months since we made the leap to a new state, a new home and the myriad discoveries of island life. The sense of mystery and wonder is still palpable. Nearly every day, one of us exclaims, “We live here!” or “This is our home!” as if saying it a thousand times will somehow normalize it.
