We started the day driving from Astoria across the bridge and into Washington. Unbelievable beauty all around us. And sadness. Some disappointment.
I am struck once again by the land so brutally logged. I am sure the whole issue of logging is far beyond my understanding and that there is a rhyme and reason to the carnage, but the clear cut stumps as far as the eye can see just seems wrong. Whole hillsides left in ruins with signs here and there saying that they were 20 years old.
At the same time, I remember us puzzling over how to take down a tree hanging too close to our house in Gualala, when someone has figured out how to cut down a whole state of trees, cart them off, mill them and build houses probably all over the world. I think on such a small scale.
The rain forest which has amazed me in years past was a dust bowl this year. Hardly any snow on the Olympics. A weird frustrated Twilight hunt in Forks and La Push. Unbelievably bad dinner but coming around Crystal Lake when all seemed dark, an unanticipated stunning sunset through the silhouetted hills down the lake. And then, no room at the inn, Port Angeles and the Olympics completely booked up so that we had to drive to Bremerton in the middle of the night.
Strange day.
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