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 is 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.
