By William Butler Yeats
Although you hide in the ebb and flow
Of the pale tide when the moon has set,
The people of coming days will know
About the casting out of my net,
And how you have leaped times out of mind
Over the little silver cords,
And think that you were hard and unkind,
And blame you with many bitter words.
It rained all night and all day Thursday, which made it just as well that I had work and chores to do and was not distracted by beautiful fall weather outside. I had a late morning dentist appointment to get pneumonia sprayed into my lungs -- I mean, to get my teeth cleaned with one of those nightmarish newfangled water needles which make the cleaning a lot faster but leave me feeling like I almost drowned -- and I stopped at Michaels afterward because Halloween decorations are 50% off this week plus I had a one day coupon.
The rest of my afternoon involved work, a walk in the rain in a fruitless search for a Charmeleon, two rides to the mall to drop off and pick up Maddy who had some shopping to do and some friends from work to see, and arguing with my cat Effie about how much of my desk chair she is obligated to share because I can't type when she's taking up the entire thing. We waited for Maddy, so we ate dinner late, then we watched the Bengals beat the Dolphins (at least until we switched to The Daily Show). From our visit to the Issaquah Fish Hatchery:
In autumn, thousands of salmon return from the sea to Issaquah Creek to spawn, so the town of Issaquah has a fish ladder and protected waterway to restore a waterway damaged by logging, mining, and other human activities.
These are Chinook salmon eggs spawned a week before this photo was taken.
This is Chinook salmon fry a bit less than a year old.
We learned that, like Magikarp, salmon turn on their sides and slap the water with their tails to lay eggs and signal their mates.
There is a dam in Issaquah Creek at the hatchery...
...which the salmon traverse by way of a fish ladder.
Visitors can watch the salmon as they swim through the ladder.
Sprinklers regularly spray above the water because the salmon jump, making rainbows in the sun.