The Ballard Locks

On one side of the locks salmon are hurling themselves out of the water into broad daylight just to get up one six inch step in the fish ladder. Their tailfins flail furiously, one breaches the surface of the sound in a perfect arc and plunges back in again. We cheer for them as they clear each obstacle, my heart stops every time crashes through to our side of the green water. “GO, fish, GO!” I shout at them over the rushing noise.

On the other side of the locks, pleasure craft sit shoulder to shoulder. I look down on to a cheese tray, perfect blocks of cheddar arranged in concentric circles on a round tray. The people on the boats are brown and healthy looking, they look like money, mostly. They have dogs that wear life vests. The people wait, chattering with their neighbors, while the water fills the lock and then, when the gate is open, they slide out on to Lake Union to join the salmon.

Pleasure Craft in the Ballard Locks

Summertime
and the living is easy.
Fish are jumping
and the cotton is high.
Your daddy’s rich
and your momma’s good lookin’.
Hush little baby, don’t you cry.

[tags]Ballard Locks, fish ladder[/tags]

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