June 19, 2015  Dena Jensen

If you were a sleek and colorful little hummingbird who had unrestricted access to the immediate vicinity of 119 N. Commercial Street in Bellingham, both inside and out, on Tuesday, June 16, 2015, what would you have seen?

First of all, let’s just say there was a screen in ill-repair on one of the windows, a window which had been opened a crack to let in the generous breeziness of that day.  That’s how you got in.  And let’s also narrow down your keen perceptive abilities to zero-in on a key set players and activities, so that we end up with a blog post and not a novel.  Who knows how many tales of that building and its surroundings would be worthy of storing in your brilliant tiny brain on any given day?

On a few of your passes through the lobby you would have seen a group of adult humans gathered, greeting each other by name.  Ellen, Peter, Margaret, Alyce, Ronna, John, Jan [pronounced Yon], Sandy, and Dena.  There was human chatter, some rustling of papers and carrying cases. At one point cedar fronds were being employed. You know of cedar.  You approve.

You zip out for a bit while all this is going on and a curious group of bamboo poles, with some sort of netting wound around them, is leaning up against the building across the street from 119 Commercial.  Okay, you pass those, about-face at Mt. Baker Theater and zoom back to the lobby.  The gathering is breaking up.  Humans are wandering to the glass doors and outside, where you love it best.  You pass above and beyond them, unseen.  They are on a mission.  They approach the bamboo poles and unfurl the netting. There are sets: netting and two poles, three of them. They reveal their purpose as banners that have something important to say.  […]Read more at Coal Stop, here.