A Stunningly Serendipitous Weekend

When magic happens

All photos by the author

I was prepared for anything: rain, storms, wind, hail, cold temperatures. Early May in Western Washington is unpredictable, and scheduling a camping trip for that period is an exercise in hope. You hope you’ll enjoy the heady scent of rain on cedar boughs without drowning. That budding greenery wipes the memory of a gray winter. You long for glimpses of blue sky but keep your expectations reasonable.

Reasonableness does not include magic, but that’s what we got. I don’t doubt that there’s magic in the world, but I think we don’t call it up with herbs or spells, nor do we channel or direct it. Magic is a game of chance. I think it floats around and pops up like a mystical peek-a-boo, surprising us with wonder and delight in our incredible good fortune.

There shouldn’t have been mushrooms, but a few played peek-a-boo with our expectations.

And that’s what happened on my Mother’s Day weekend camping trip with my daughter. We each have plans later in the year, so we decided to move up the date of our annual trip and just take our chances. Magic decided to reward us.

The first clue was the weather forecast. 80 degrees and sunny. This early in May? After weeks of cold, drizzly clouds? Unheard of. Almost…