Home of the gods


The trees are bigger and the mountains jaggedier here. The ferns are larger and the green moss greener–something out of a dinosaur age really. This is a different place, a home to Sasquatch and marmots. The home of Mt. Olympus and other peaks which I can see from Seattle, always offering solace that there is an abode for the gods and it’s just over there. In the last Ice Age (which we are still a part of I’m told), huge glacial tongues tried to disconnect this piece of land from the rest of the continent. They only partially succeeded, but they did manage to carve an otherness out of it.

I first came here as a teenager of 14 on a backpacking trip my dad. I had never seen mountains so rough or a coastline so jagged that it left breathless. Later, as an adult, I moved to Seattle and this place became my touchstone. I would come to escape and to connect with a presence greater than my own. And I still come here 25 years later. To escape from the madness of America entering another war on the Middle East and of my desire to sever and to change my own life. I come here to stand on the shore of what was once the edge of Pangea–the united landmass of all the continents–and stare into the abyss of thousands of miles of open sea, to listen to the waves and wonder what it would be like to dive in and swim to the other side.

Rialto Beach

Rialto Beach

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