Sunday, January 30, 2011

Birthdays and other pathways . . .

My birthday is tomorrow. While I don't particularly like birthdays (I try to forget about mine but my family refuses to play along), they do get me thinking about this path we follow called "life". My path has taken me in many directions . . . some of which I would never have predicted. Who would have guessed that I'd actually follow my dream of being a music teacher? Two children? After being the oldest of four, I would have guessed that I'd only ever have one daughter who would be just like me, without the life mistakes of course . . . actually I have to wonderful boys, so much for my being able to control this part of my life. If someone had shown me a picture and a description of my husband when I was a teenager, I would have laughed and told them that I preferred Tom Cruise and Andrew McCarthy. How I ended up marrying this intelligent, funny, and devoted person, I'll never know. Lucky, I guess. Someone who controls my destiny knew that this wonderful person would give me the life I needed, not the one I thought I wanted.
So . . . back to my birthday. At first I thought I'd write about aging gracefully but then I realized, after spending more money on facial anti-aging products, that I'm not willing to age gracefully. I'm just not. I liked being young and want to stay there. Therefore, I need a new meaningful topic. Thus, the idea of paths and pathways. So . . . I decided to explore my photographs and am sharing one of my favorite pathways.
A path through Mount Rainier . . . you need an ice pick to get to the waterfall at the end of this path. Needless to say, we didn't have one. This photo was taken in June. Yes, June. A month when we want to see green mountains and pretty flowers. Sunshine. Yeah right . . . the Pacific Northwest doesn't see the sun until halfway through July. No one told us this fact when we booked our plane tickets. So our visit to the stunning Mount Rainier was wet, rainy, misty, and the mountain was still covered with snow. People still ski during this month in the Pacific Northwest. My shorts stayed in the suitcase and I craved my winter coat. However, all complaints ended when we drove through the small wooden archway that provides people with a simple entrance to a grand mountain.
Mount Rainier was beautiful in all it's misty foggy rain sodden glory. You have to seek out it's wonders . . . it doesn't overtly present them. The drive along the paved road is nice but the hidden secrets of this mountain call to you, begging one to park the car and get wet. Many of it's beautiful features require a bit of a hike. It's as if Mother Nature wants people to work for the reward of seeing the natural wonders on this mountain. I'm okay with that . . . it's a fair trade.
The light is different from any mountain I've seen in the past. In the rain and fog of June, it's a bit dark . . . the darkness adds to it's power and delicate natural beauties. Waterfalls abound and each sings their own splashy song. There are small ponds hidden along the pathways, covered with bright green algae and other plant growth. I wondered if there were fairies and gnomes living underneath the ferns of this mountain. We were too early to see the meadow wild flowers in a location aptly called "Paradise" but didn't feel deprived. The fog crept along the snow-covered fields, changing the view every few minutes. My camera took wonderful photos but didn't come close to being accurate in its representation of this amazing place.
What a divergent mountain . . . somehow, I wish that Walt Whitman had lived to see this place. He would have done justice in describing the powerful height, merry waterfalls, delicate snow flowers, and scents of pine. My words are sorely inadequate and I feel as though we were only allowed to peek into a few crevices of this natural site. It's now seven months after our trip and I still seek out my photos on a regular basis. I want to go back and explore more of this place. Maybe the mountain gods will open more doors and share more of its secrets. I hope so . . .

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