What is it about freshly fallen snow that is so alluring? Few things in nature are so purely white, so symbolic of beginnings, of things untainted. To a writer it is the blank page beckoning for insights. To a painter, the bare canvas awaiting inspiration. But most of all, it is the real alchemy of snow that delights. To watch moisture-laden clouds release these ice crystals, which then drift down to earth in such dizzying fashion, is to recall the snow days of childhood and my first sled, all shiny red metal and varnished wood and the steep streets of Portland that I dared go down.
Continue reading...1. October 2008
Since today is supposed to be the last 80 degree day this year in western Washington, I’ve headed to Mt. Rainier, the crown jewel of the Cascade Range. Though it’s a long drive, it’s worth it to savor one more experience of being thoroughly warm. Warmth and Quiet—those are my goals. Mountains have long been places of spiritual renewal and settings for introspection. I know that being able to look out over a landscape from above often births a new outlook on my own life.
Continue reading...24. July 2008
I’ve come to the edge of the wild land, a vertical mile to Hurricane Ridge. I study a subalpine fir torn in two, probably by namesake winds last spring. Its top half now lies on the ground, browning and disintegrating back into the earth. Chipmunks play hide and seek among its brittle branches. The bottom half may survive and grow a new, if odd-looking top—or it may die in place, shed its needles and eventually transform into a stately silver snag. Mountain meadows are colorful, soft and alluring—to deer and to people. Drifts of violet harebells and lupine contrast with white daisies, persimmon colored paintbrushes and lilliputian tiger lilies. The colors flow down the mountain like streams of rainbows.
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26. February 2009
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