Because today the Cascades spread out to the East, and the Olympics, the West, snow-capped and promising, perfectly outlined in the morning sky. Because the ferries make their way back and forth to Bainbridge and Vashon, no matter the weather. It’s likely I’ll be stopped still by a blue heron, my morning walk on Alki Beach, the space Needle’s spire rising in the distant skyline. Because one morning 6 a.m. flight, I grab the tired gate agent and say, “Look!” The rose light illumined Mt. Rainier, magnified by airport glass, all 14,000 feet, just outside on the tarmac. Because this is the only place I know where people say, “The mountains are out today!” as if they dissolve behind the fog and mist, making a round-trip journey to another locale. Because for every mile west to the Hoh Rainforest, you get another inch of rain until finally, with reverence, you can walk the moss-covered trails into the magic air and cedar-filtered light, verdant, pristine, silent. ...
- for the journey...