Day 277: You cannot live at the base of such grandeur and say that you take it for granted, not unless you are totally blind to the beauty of the natural world, but it occurs to me that in this blog, I have posted very few photos of Mount Rainier, giving short shrift to one of the most compelling forces in my life. It was having this mountain in my back yard, so to speak, which fostered in me a strong adventurous spirit. Even at a very young age, I felt the Mountain's pull. I wanted to explore the meadows, to hike, to climb, to learn the names of the wildflowers and to become a forest ranger. I would not say that Mountain set my path; rather, it became the path on which my every footstep fell, existing simultaneously as the route and the destination.
Once upon a whim, I left the state for a period and, too inexperienced in emotional attachment, did not recognize for some time the source of an incredible homesickness. It was not friends or family I missed. It was my Mountain on the horizon. When I discovered the shape of the hole in my heart, I beat-feeted it home for good.
When I walk out behind the Longmire housing compound during my lunch break nowadays, I Mountain-watch. A cloud on the shoulder of Gibraltar Rock, a cap on the summit, the debris of a rockfall darkening a glacier each give me a glimpse of the seasonal mood. No more than I could take this peak for granted could I refrain from imbuing it with a personality. This is the Mountain, regent of the Pacific Northwest, and I'll thank you to spell that with a capital M, please.
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