Grandfather Time

I remember the moment when I entered time. I was six years old living on Formosa Point on the Tulalip Indian Reservation near Marysville. It was a sunny afternoon in August and I was by myself, walking out onto a dock during high tide, barefoot, feeling the frisson of the rough weathered fir planks on my bare feet. At the end of the dock I squinted out at the brilliant silver glare of the sun on the gently rippling surface of the bay. Then I moved to look down into the shade created by a piling. I could see to the bottom, see the drifting seaweed and jellyfish. And then school of small perch swam into view. A school of fish I thought, and then the fateful association: school. I would be goin...View all