There's something to be said for a beautifully clear blue sky kind of day. But especially when you get one of those in or around the Seattle area? It's a notable day, to say the least. It's nice to open my eyes to a pair of windows that does not pretend to signify it is 5pm already. Because, seriously. . .it feels like perpetual twilight in this town.
I have always loved the rain. Probably more than is appropriate. What I missed more than anything in the world about Pittsburgh (other than my family, of course, but I don't associate my family with the 'burgh, it just happens to be where they live) when I moved out west was sitting on the front porch swing underneath a couple of fluffy blankets with a great book. Or any book, really. Who remembers if what I liked back then was any good or not?
Second to the sound of the rain on a tin roof or from inside the car, I love running in it. On a warm spring day in April when the showers promise to bring flowers - nothing like it. First of all, it doesn't matter if you sweat. Secondly, puddles.
Turns out it hardly ever rains in Lewiston, Idaho. Like. . .at all. However, when it does. . .it is quite the doozy. Brilliant lightning storms! Not like the kind I would see on a regular basis back east but still a sight for sore eyes. Of course, when I heard we might be moving to Seattle, I had visions of myself dancing beneath grey skies and casting snarky side-long glances at that song Put on a Happy Face. I really thought seriously about singing in the rain, sans umbrella. Because no true Seattlite would be caught dead with an umbrella. Or maybe they would. In January, anyway.
Now here we are. It rains as much as they've always said it does. And I do love it. In fact, it gives me an excuse to buy all the boots a girl's heart could stand before bursting.
Then, who'd have ever thought I'd give an inkling about the stupid ol' sun? We have a love-hate relationship, the sun and I. But we settled our differences for at least one day. Today.
Adam and I set out on an adventure through the forest and marshes of the Clear Creek Trail. This creek's title is actually earned, unlike all of those motels you sea in vacation spots that display blinking neon signs on some run-down street corner with no water in sight, "Oceanside View" and "Bayshore Suites." The Clear Creek is surprisingly. . .quite clear. And you can see it several times along the trail.
The trail takes you on a winding trek through both charming wooded areas and urban expanses. How strange it is to be walking on spongy moss and listening to the birds chirp whatever it is they talk about and then suddenly find yourself sprung out in front of the entrance to Costco. On a Saturday afternoon. "I wonder what ants sound like to other ants."
We'd been on this trail a couple times before but we attempted new territory this go around. We happened upon a beautiful little pond, inhabited by ducks and birds of all kinds. Never heard of a bufflehead before. Sounds like something Adam and I would have made up ourselves for lack of a better name. And no one else would have found it as funny as we did.
We climbed rocks and crossed bridges, discovered the stumps of 700-year-old Cedars. All in a day's work, I suppose.
Old Trees!!!
I think about what Adam and I usually do to fill our time - watch TV, play video games, surf around online. Each of us waiting around for the other to suggest something awesome. Or at least something else!
This was such a great day! Fantastic memories. . .and not bad exercise, either.
Next stops:
Dungeness Spit
(again, but this time in warmer weather)
Guillemot Cove
(can't wait to see the Stumphouse)
Palouse Falls
(cause nobody says no to a waterfall)
Multnomah Falls
(I will make it to the top, you old ladies with your walking sticks, I will!)
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