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Swan Falls But Once
“Or you can come on the ride with me,” I answer when I see Kayla’s brow furrow at my request to help babysit Brenna while I ride for a few hours. “Okay.” I wasn’t expecting that. She seems sincere but it is quite different from the usual response to ride invitations, rolled eyes and long sighs. I pause a moment to consider whether she might be sarcastic. “How long?” she asks. “About four hours, I think.” “Okay.” Still okay. I guess she’s serious. The novelty is kind of exciting. I need to reconfigure the bike for a passenger! My oldest daughter, Laura, recently turned eighteen. Last night was her senior prom. She rode away from our house in a long, white limousine with a group of friends. She was beautiful. I can measure Laura’s age in motorcycles: two. The one she sat on with me as a toddler, once she overcame her fear of the noise, still seems like a recent purchase. Yet in a few short months, she’ll be off to college. I’d like to get on some adventures with her—maybe sing her the bumblebee song one more time—but today she tells me she is tired from the prom and just wants to lay low. I am excited that Kayla, three years younger, wants to join me. She hasn’t cared as much for adventuring. I’m anxious to ensure a fun ride so I don’t justify her usual ambivalence. We will follow the loop I’ve already planned, to Swan Falls, Bruneau and back.
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