Yesterday crab season started in our neck of the woods.
I don't know this fact because I crab, though my husband did buy a few pots last summer when we moved in. They are stored near the canoe I bought him six years ago that has yet to get wet. He is a lover of the idea of adventures, but often can't find the time and oomph necessary to turn them into reality. We'll get there.
No, I know that it's crabbing season because at breakfast my kids and I noticed a bunch of buoys floating outside our home in the Puget Sound. We didn't see any boats drop them off in the morning, but by the time we looked out, a dozen things bobbing and floating in the water. The ripples of low waves tried to push them, tried to get them to go the way of the waves, but the buoys stayed where they were left, stubbornly guarding some unseen thing below the surface.
In the afternoon, the boats came back for the pots that these buoys guarded. One at a time, a couple of locals on well-loved and well-used boats, the simple kind that provide hours of fun and mountains of memories but probably require more maintenance than I have the patience for, motored to our spot on the Sound.
My youngest son called to anyone who could hear him and no one in particular: "They're coming back for the pots!" He stood there watching as the person on the boat, bundled up with coats and hat and gloves to protect against the cold afternoon, leaned over the boat and grabbed the buoy. He pulled up the attached string, pulling it up with one hand and then the other. A dozen or more birds flapped around the boat, hoping for a free lunch, or at least an easy one. And then, finally, there was a cage, a crab trap I think it's called, and we could see from inside our cozy house that this crab season started on a successful note for that particular crabber.
I made a mental note to not wait too much longer to learn how to go crabbing (without the boat if possible). I scribbled "learn to crab" right next to "learn to fish" because I love the idea of casting a line, catching some fish, and then cooking it for my family. All of these things are in the category of "appreciate where I live."
Even more than I do. Because I really do love this house, this place, this life.