Pinch, Pinch, Pinch!

Another "Pinch-yourself" day.

Happily and gratefully, they keep happening.

I pinch myself because I get to live where I live.

I pinch myself because of the experiences I get to live.

I pinch myself whenever I get to have fun with family or friends. 

And, I pinch myself because of the sights I get to see, even if I do no longer see through eagle eyes.

The images and the moments are still amazing.

For all these reasons, yesterday surged off the scale for the need to pinch and the urge to say "Thank you, God." 

One of the greatest passions I've had in my life is meeting people, listening to their stories and often getting to tell those stories. 

This week I've been in the midst of just that with a magazine assignment.  

Yesterday, as part of that assignment, I paid a visit to one of my interviewees where I saw relics---lots of them, tastefully on display in the outdoors. 

Was I ever in Heaven, eyeing all those sights, like a kid in a candy store! 

Of course, the camera came out and went to work, capturing a few highlights, including some pictures of my interviewee. 

This particular person is not quite a relic but, oh, the tales told that stretched on for at least 1.5 hours. 

While there, I received a text from Annie, inquiring if we were "going to take kayaks out tonight."  

Yes, indeed, we would.  

After all, Barbara and Laurie were anxious to go on their maiden voyage.

Once again, the drift yard east of Hope on Lake Pend Oreille got the nod. 

As we drove along the Pack River delta and along the lake in early evening, I couldn't get over just HOW beautiful that lake was.  

Seventy-three years of living near that lake, and who knows how many times I've seen that view----often, it feels like the very first OMG time.  

Up that emotion a notch or two, and you know how much I wanted to pinch myself on that lakeside drive. 

Once we arrived, Bill was in his element, meeting a Forest Service friend and enjoying a long conversation, as we waited for Barbara and Laurie.  

The friend's wife was at the dock, watching their dog play.  Turns out we sorta knew each other because she graduated from Sandpoint High School in 1992. 

I did not have her as a student, but one of her sisters helped me out as an English aide. 

When Barbara and Laurie arrived, we took off from the dock, happily in no big hurry.  The night was young, the water still and serene, the sun shining brightly in the west. 

To say it was a laid-back, relaxing night would be an understatement, except maybe for the excitement when we approached some pilings where an eagle sat with no concern for our presence. 

Its leg had a tag, and after watching it mosey up and down the boards, someone speculated that it was probably a young eagle not quite into flying yet. 

The bird almost seemed to welcome our gawking, and, of course, the experience offered another "pinch myself" moment, knowing that seldom in a lifetime would a human get that close to an eagle in the wild. 

As the sun began to set, we arrived back at the launch where since our departure a cloud of evening bugs silenced the "ohhh's and ahhh's" of our experience. 

Nobody wanted to eat bugs, so we generally kept our lips sealed. 

That evening hatch did lead to one loud yell on the water a little ways from the dock. 

"Fish on!" Bill shouted. Obviously, his kayaking adventure was complete.

Yup, many of us old-timers have remarked often how, through all the dismay associated with the Pandemic, we in North Idaho have been so fortunate with our space and our natural beauty. 

Yes, we are grateful and happy to feel like pinching ourselves with every good day filled with friends, family and a big slice of Heaven on Earth.   

This was a treasure for me to see, as I'm sure it will be for my blog editor Helen.

Both of us, at different times, worked as stringers for the Spokane Daily Chronicle, our afternoon paper. 

                                                          ---Annie Love Photo