No salmon met with a more uproarious welcome than those returning to spawn…and die…in our small town this past weekend. If we could only bottle “Salmon Days” and sprinkle its contents over the country, we might see an upturn in the overall economy. There seemed no end to the numbers of customers…browsing…and buying…from the vendors selling food and crafts. My husband and I agreed we’d not seen so many people when we frequented the festival some years ago. Perhaps the dry, sunny weather was a contributing factor.

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We wandered the backroads and main roads of downtown, eyeing booth after booth of delectable offerings. Flavorful aromas tickled our noses. I could’ve eaten one of almost everything sold. Instead I stepped into the first short line I saw, and got a “kids hot dog.” All the other dogs were foreign…Polish sausage…German bratwurst and the like. The cashier informed me , rather snippily, when I asked for a regular hot dog, that the “kids hot dog” was it. Okay, I thought…everyone should know that.

I made the mistake of ordering curly fries to go with my dog. At $7 a pop, I got more than I bargained for…a large block of deep-fried, high cholesterol boosters! A passerby stopped to comment “That’s a block of fries!” To which I responded “I’d no idea what I was in for!” We both laughed, as did others around us.

Hubby and I polished off half the fries, giving the rest to a family of 5, three of them teens. They happily accepted, their mouths too full of the fries they’d already finished to thank us. No matter! My mom’s motto of “Waste not; want not!” was furthered. That made me feel good.

It wasn’t easy taking pictures with people coming and going from all directions. Most paid no heed to my stopping to set up a shot. They kept on walking. A few apologized, or waited. I told them not to worry, that they should keep on going. After all, I was trying to remain inconspicuous. I didn’t want folks objecting to my photographing them, or their wares. Crafters are very wary of having their ideas stolen. I don’t blame them, having been one myself for many years.

Of course dogs were welcome. Most seemed okay with the idea of wending through legs and strollers. Some led; others let their owners do the leading. Some had to be coaxed. Some looked like they wanted off their leash to go bounding hither and yon of their own accord. Now that would’ve been a sight!

The salmon…what about the salmon? I’ve never known the fish to care about all the hoopla that surrounds them. They lie in the bottom of the creek doing their thing, unaware of all the prying eyes trying to spy what exactly it is the salmon are doing. Kids are curious. Adults explain the best they can. Docents are nearby to offer information. I’m with the salmon…

…we’re just doing our thing…they’re swimming and spawning…i’m pointing and shooting…with my trusty little, red, canon…

………hugmamma.