The Cascades and Lake Washington, Apr. 5, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
Showing posts with label Cascades. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cascades. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Yesterday, You couldn't see much of the mountains--just a trace here and there.
The Bay, Mar. 13, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
But this morning, visibility was a lot better, even though the sky overhead wasn't free of clouds. You could see White Horse, Three Fingers and many other mountains.
The Bay, Mar. 14, 2010
Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved
Friday, December 25, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Later in the Afternoon
Some days, as you look to the horizon in the east, it's so clear you can see all the way to Touchet--well, if not literally, then at least figuratively. There, in Touchet, on a hillock, above a golf course, is the grave of America Smalley, a child who tragically lost her life in a fire. Her grave is marked by a large, white wooden cross.
But this afternoon, despite the golden sunlight, coming from low in the western sky, there's an accumulation of purplish-blue clouds above the Cascades. Nevertheless, I see Touchet in my mind's eye, and that white cross on the hill.
But this afternoon, despite the golden sunlight, coming from low in the western sky, there's an accumulation of purplish-blue clouds above the Cascades. Nevertheless, I see Touchet in my mind's eye, and that white cross on the hill.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Looking Towards the Mountains
As I look across the lake to the Cascades I always think about the other side--the "dry side." I remember one time as I was approaching the pass how completely enveloped in mist everything was. And then almost the moment I made it across the pass, the sun was shining, and it was as if I'd entered a completely different world. And then came all that high desert area, and then fruit-growing country and more desert--of a different kind--and then, much further, the rolling hills covered with golden wheat. I think of all of that whenever I look at the mountains.
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