Today is mowing day at the Port of Bellingham. The mowers hum, sometimes close, then fade to a softer buzz as they loop away. Mowing day reminds me of the crop dusters when we lived in San Perlita. Some pilots would be so daring as to fly under the power lines -- as lithe as dragonflies – in order to dust the most outer edge of the field. Those particular pilots didn’t live long.
|Demo of the Bleach Plant, a facet of the Georgia Pacific pulp mill and paper factory.|
|With the kids on Bellingham Bay.|
|Cash, sailing on Bellingham Bay.|