After dinner, we walk along the wooded path from the house to Centennial park. Patches of clouds roll across the sky like waves at sea, while the setting sun lights them on fire.
At one corner of trail, scattered are the belongings of a group of homeless men who have been camping there for some time. A piece of cardboard lies quietly next to the roadway, a neatly handwritten message reads:
Dear Bothell police
Please do not throw away our stuff if we are not here. We are moving them to a new location, we can only carry so much at a time. We will clean everything up. We try to leave it in a better place than we found it. Thank you.
—Tom and others
Perched in the cottonwoods lining the trail, countless crows keep a watchful gaze on us as we stroll. A thousand take flight as we pass.
I remember Jeromy used to say: the crows go to Bothell at night.
July 31, 2025 at home in Bothell, WA