Arrow-right Camera
The Spokesman-Review Newspaper

The Spokesman-Review Newspaper The Spokesman-Review

Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883
News >  Idaho

Missing pickle no cause for dismay

Gloria Warnick The Spokesman-Review

It’s a sunny afternoon; the first sunny day after months of rain. Birds sing sweetly and my husband just brought home sandwiches from the San Francisco Sourdough Eatery on Sherman Avenue. Our friend, Robert makes our favorite turkey on sourdough with mayo, spicy mustard, lettuce and tomatoes. But for some reason, today someone forgot my pickle. They have the best dill pickles around and they always serve a pickle spear with their sandwiches. The disappointment will last a long time.

I focus on the fact that the sun is shining with a few puffy white clouds dotting the sky. “Honey,” I say “lets load up the ice chest with some drinks and goodies and take our sandwiches to the park by Lake Coeur d’Alene for a picnic.” His eyes light up and I hear a resounding, “Yes!”

It’s a short drive to the beach and soon we are parking in the well-marked and cared-for city parking lot. It’s a short walk down clean sidewalks to a park bench with a spectacular view of the Hagadone resort and the blue-green waters of Lake Coeur d’Alene. A light breeze ruffles my hair. The engine of a seaplane sputters to life. The plane taxis out a few hundred feet, revs up its engine and rises slowly above the water, disappearing behind Tubbs Hill. I love this place.

A fountain bubbles up and the water flows down a streambed, spilling over some steps into the lake. Evergreen trees sway in the breeze and two teen girls sit on the gray concrete steps giggling and enjoying their moments in the sun. Two young uniformed policemen riding bicycles pass by, intent on being sure the young ladies are safe. One of them, Gus, is our son’s friend. We say hello. Wow! He’s grown up and become quite a handsome young man.

Bill and I enjoy our picnic. It’s time to walk through the park. Two men strum on their guitars. They sound good. The basketball court is a flurry of boys, dribbling and shooting baskets. Maroon-colored plum trees sway in the breeze and stand in a straight line behind stiff white lifeguard stands. Across the gray sidewalk sway green ash trees. They bend and bow to us. The beauty of this place takes my breath away.

Soon it will be the Fourth of July and our family members will be sitting on the seawall watching the fireworks over Lake Coeur d’Alene as we join the anticipated group of 50,000 plus people who enjoy Duane Hagadone’s yearly gift to this city. Of all the events that happen in this region, this one is one of my favorites.

Holding hands with my sweetie we walk past the pavilion. We admire the handiwork of some artisan who has carved an eagle from a tree stump. It’s a glorious afternoon. The weatherman says tomorrow it will rain again. Right now I truly don’t care if it rains. The smell of the fresh-mowed lawn, the sight of cute guys wearing shorts, and the sound of the occasional sea gull screeching overhead, compete for my senses. I think this is what I waited for during the long, white, winter months.

Leaving for home, we drive the loop around the parking lot. Gus waves to us as he passes by on his bicycle with three of his fellow officers. The endorphins released by the walk in the sunlight make me a happy, happy person. I’ve completely forgotten about my missing pickle. The black ribbon of the parking lot snaps onto Northwest Boulevard and with my window rolled down, I enjoy the warmed lake breezes. The drive home is too short.

Lake City High School is prepping for their commencement exercise; road barriers are set up and their billboard blinks “Congratulations Seniors!” Our last child at home is graduating. We smile at one another and our fingers entwine.

At home, I clean up from the picnic. It’s time to go sit on the patio and watch our newly planted grass grow in the backyard. I don’t have an eagle tree stump or any plum trees or even a waterfall to listen to, but the sun is still shining and I’m still smiling.

I hear the neighborhood children calling to one another and I see them ride by on their bicycles. We all know it’s going to rain later tonight, but for right now we smile and wave to one another or talk about what a beautiful day it has been. The rain is coming, we can see it sweeping across the prairie from Spokane, but for right now, a silly little bluebird is hopping on my green grass and our large white cat is watching it intensely, dreaming of its own picnic.

The Spokesman-Review Newspaper

Local journalism is essential.

Give directly to The Spokesman-Review's Northwest Passages community forums series -- which helps to offset the costs of several reporter and editor positions at the newspaper -- by using the easy options below. Gifts processed in this system are not tax deductible, but are predominately used to help meet the local financial requirements needed to receive national matching-grant funds.

Active Person

Subscribe now to get breaking news alerts in your email inbox

Get breaking news delivered to your inbox as it happens.