The Things They Do On Tahoma Creek Trail

That lovely girl I know and I hiked up a washed out Tahoma Creek trail this Labor Day weekend in a desperate hunt for the last few sunny tendrils of summer. The news of Indian Henry's snow-- reported by rangers along the way--was a somber reminder that August's few moments of potency and verility had been ephemeral affairs indeed. In odd and ironic counterpoint to this sense of impending molecular deacceleration, however, was an alien conflagration of the like that I am unlikely to ever encounter again. On the way home--wrapped together in a briliant burst of sunlight--we found a couple in flagrante... the man on bended knee...a woman being weighted down by a sparkly new hand rock. "She said yes!" he exclaimed as he leapt to his feet... and we two were obliged to stumble past muttering congratulations under our breath.