End of Summer

I have a backlog of photos I still need to post, and these were all taken toward the very end of Summer, mostly around Riffe Lake, WA

 and the South Side of Mount Saint Helens.

I was really going through it internally (and I guess I always am, hah) around this time. Not because of anything happening on the outside. But because of the knowing, the pestering realization, the denial and ultimate acceptance, that my favorite season was coming to an end, in one of the most beautiful places on earth.  

This is always heartbreaking for me.

But also captivating.

When the darkness and the cold and the death take over, they are stark reminders of life. The beautiful and terrifying fragility of being alive. And I guess this is pretty common for so many of us. To feel these feelings, however they are provoked.

What guides me and sustains me is knowing that everything comes back again. Everything good and beautiful and pure. It all comes back. 

Of course, it's the waiting that can be excruciating. 

But without the waiting, would we understand, would we wholeheartedly appreciate.. the significance of it all?

Perhaps, but probably in a different plane.

Goat Rocks Wilderness

This place is so pure it makes my heart ache.

Back in August, my husband and I hiked up up up into the stunning Goat Rocks Wilderness to get away from it all. It was a pleasure to photograph. While I didn't spot any goats this time, I did see some Pikas and a Marmot. Unfortunately, they were too swift for my humble lens. 

Special thanks to the Judolia beetle who allowed me to take his picture while he was resting on a flower.

 

Mount Saint Helens

Scenes from the notorious North side on the Loowit Trail. 

The Pacific Northwest

I have myriad emotions when it comes to the Pacific Northwest. Like a teenager who loves and hates her parents in one breath. I truly grew up here. I became who I am here. I always come back. And I always want to leave. Because there is so much more out there. But also everything I need is all around me. It gives and takes. It rains, it drenches, it suffocates, and then it washes away into a beauty so spectacular I wonder if there is anywhere else so incredibly perfect. And there is loveliness in the grey. The colors seep through the melancholy. And I am reminded that without the darkness, there is no light.

Last month marked one year of life on the road. We embarked on June 28th, 2025. There are no words to describe the feeling of wealth that comes with giving away almost everything you own to live a life of freedom. I've never felt more like myself and more at home, and it's a feeling I wish for everyone. Life can still be difficult. The challenges unfold just like anything else. But the voyage of it all is unmatched. 

Everything is beautiful when you are exactly where you're supposed to be.