Existentialists in a Silty Fog

They sit on a log staring at the river. He wears a bright yellow pullover that gives lie to the look of great sadness on his face.  Her more subdued outfit better matches their mood. On this overcast day why do they  concentrate on the river muddied with Herbert Glacier silt when they could admire the snow covered Chilkat Mountains across Favorite Channel?  Perhaps they have accepted existentialism as their faith and expect the river and the outgoing tide to carry away their sadness.

Aki starts to break toward them but stops when I turn and move deeper into the tidal meadow. We take this trail often and find it different each time. Today in the meadow, blue and the rarer white lupine flowers have reached their peak. Some are already forming seeds. Fire weed shoots are starting to muscle out a space for their magenta blossoms. In the woods, low growing sorrel cover open spaces with their simple white flowers, aided by orchid spikes and the blossoms of famine berries.

From the meadow, with the tide out we see great expanses of exposed sand bars and fine clouds of glacier silt curling like fog over the river bank to settle on meadow grass.  I turn back to the couple on their seat of sadness just as a tendril of silty fog blows over them.

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