Schools of bright painted cardboard salmon on sticks jumping and twirling over the throng seething --dancing with salmon, the drumbeat, the music enjoining onlookers to feel the wild salmon imperative -our migration. Pied-pipered we follow not a street, not a direction but a calling, a need, a compelling attraction towards vitality, towards renewal.
Through the canyon of downtown buildings, we feel a quickening intensify. The salmon inside me feels --destination, attracting, animating, joyfully moving me us blurring and like magnetized marionettes pulled towards not place, but purpose and exhilaration.
Gathering in number, cascading, almost mindful bits of reminiscence, a place resolves itself to become a purpose and then to breathe-in, inspiration to become motivation to see and then to shout we are here --arrived to feed and nurture this place, so that it will remember us too as we remember it.
We have a sense of useful selfless joy being in and with our noble kind. I, we are not supplicants at the legislature. We are mobile thoughtful food sharing its values and inspiration with all who eat of us. Are we not wild salmon migrating now? Are we not returning to our waters our land and our fellow beings with sustenance?
More than four thousand* of us became the wisdom and voice, of wild salmon yesterday. If you hear this voice then you are too.