Salt Spring Island,
Canada
Tiptoeing past all capters, the hat masks the slippery figure. All backs turned, afraid to identify the lonely culprit. Stepping stones blur, unsure if they should form a path or retreat to the unseen. All movement is made to look casual from a distance. Hiding in plain sight, the dance is so perfect it’s imperceptible. Escape is eminent, all that’s needed now is patience. The final jump to the solid is already hailed as a spectacular success, only the results lag, not the intention. And sailing on the back of all things to come, the umbrella settles itself into position for a smooth landing into tomorrow’s sun-soaked underbrush as it prepares for the next rain.