Rest in Peace the wooden cross reads. We Love You Dylan is lettered in colorful paint. His initials are given: D.R.R. He lived from 1996 to 2011, and I wonder if this is for a boy who was rescued, but who fell deeply into a coma. Perhaps the coma ended with his life. I will have to look it up for I wish to know details. Signs close to this channel mouth declare a steep dropoff close to shore, sign posts driven into the dropoff ridge. Could a collection of pictures, makeshift memorials, remind young ones to be careful around water? In a case of irony that makes me wonder about the existence of God and think he's trying to send me a message, my partner from work looked out the window of a blue Impala driven by his wife. He didn't wave but he smiled to see me. He visited his doctor complaining of a bad back and the doctor found a tumor as cause, plus cancer in his blood stream. He wore a neck brace and I looked for signs of throat surgery, a tracheotomy. I readied myself with an affable greeting when they stopped, but my eyes followed the Impala. It made a loop and returned on the Bluffton Road.
The fishermen are working Snug Harbor, staying just left of an imaginary line extending east of the north channel shore. I hear the Chinook Salmon are expected to run.
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